Homebound
by DamselCausingDistress
Summary: Ezio/OC. Romance, Action. Abigail has no idea how or why she's appeared in Renaissance Italy, but she is now, and she has to adapt, and maybe make a few friends that get her tangled in something far bigger than herself. (really bad with summaries!)
1. Chapter 1

**-Just a note: use google translate if you really want to know what they're saying!**

In all honesty, I couldn't have told you a thing. All I knew myself, was that everything here was foreign to me. I'd look up and see the kind of buildings I'd find in my history textbook. I couldn't even tell you from what century though, I just knew it looked familiar. I was also wearing _much_ different clothes to the people around me; I'd gotten used to actually fitting in at my high school, and admittedly yes, we did have a school uniform, as bland as it was, but there was still a certain way to wear your skirt, a certain way to have your hair, a certain way to do everything, in order to fit in.

Here, was kind of like being in a room full of jesters. The men I saw walking past me, wore… a very flamboyant taste in apparel, I thought. Though I'd never been to the circus, I'd imagine this is what it'd look like, only, don't clowns wear it for humour? These people look very serious, as they stare at me, like _I'm _the odd one out.

The third problem I had, was that people spoke in tongues. When I looked out onto the street, people were speaking in another language. It was like French and Spanish combined. I _think_ it's Italian. I think.

I really didn't know what to do, I didn't know where I was, how I got here, why. All I could tell you is that my name is Abigail. I was born in 1996, I go to the local high in my area code. I have a Nokia brick phone, I like to play videogames, though not a wide range of them. I enjoy puzzles, and I haven't spelt a word wrong since I was nine.

I consider myself tough; I've never backed down from a fight… regardless of whether I've actually been in one. I'm intelligent, though I'm hopeless with a Rubik's cube. Also too, I think a lot. That's why it caught me off guard—mind the pun—when a burly man in those odd red clothes covered in grimy silver armor, a sword strapped to his waist, had stopped in his tracks when he saw me. He completely blocked the mouth of the alleyway, and shouted at me in a foreign language, with a few of his friends dawdling along behind him. Don't get me wrong, he looked _very _threatening, but all the same, he wasn't looking at me like I was an enemy; he seemed merely curious. Suspicious, even.

He took a couple steps toward me, and I hesitated to take one back. He was talking, I assume to me, and I yelled back at him.

"Help!"

He looked utterly shell-shocked, before taking a step back and talking to one of his friends in a low voice. The slightly scrawnier man he spoke to crept forward, his expression completely unreadable. I think the whole concept of reading facial expressions was a huge downplay on fiction anyway; how the hell were people able to tell how a person was feeling just from looking in their eyeball?

"Parlez-vous français?" he asked, and my jaw almost dropped completely to the floor. What were the chances.

"Oui, mais limité." He nodded, and turned back to the other three, translating, I assume.

"Qu'est-ce que votre entreprise à Florence?" I didn't catch all of that. What the hell is entreprise? I shrugged, and we continued to converse, finally understanding what he was saying, even though his accent seemed ridiculously thick for him to even consider knowing more than one language. I noticed the sun had fallen from its position at the highest point in the sky, to low on the horizon, drawing long shadows of the buildings across the street.

Again, I couldn't have told you anything. I asked him where I was, a whole list of questions, but he continued to barrel on, questioning me almost endlessly. At one point, I could tell they made a decision, but I didn't know what. We had to communicate with our hands a lot, making gestures to my clothes, hair.

Talking to this middle-aged man upset me more and more as the sun sank lower into the horizon. It felt like about 5pm, maybe 6, before they took me somewhere. An office, that was about the size of my bedroom back home, with a single large desk in the center of the room, and a chair behind it. Within a single motion, the man who spoke to me in French told me to stay and wait in this room, and they stood outside it. For a moment the idea crossed my mind that I was a treasure to be guarded, until I considered the stares I'd received for my clothing on the short walk here.

Not gonna lie, I was scared out of my wits. I sat on the floor in the corner, so I didn't have to turn my head to look at the door. Something must've happened while I was out, because I was awoken from my place on the floor well after dark. No one spared a few moments to explain to me what was going on, before I was marched mercilessly through the torch-lit street. I picked up on certain details about the landscape.

Firstly, there were glass windows, yes, but they weren't glass like I knew it. It was foggy and looked like it was in a permanent state of uncleanliness. The buildings were made of a mixture of stone, wood, and small parts of iron. The road wasn't paved asphalt, just a mix of stone and dirt that had been walked on for such a long time it'd been compressed to a flat road. I quickly lost track of the way we'd walked, though it only took a short distance, maybe ten minutes. I caught sight of a house that we seemed to be making a beeline for.

One of the guards knocked on the door, which I noticed had an ornately carved angel. A few loud raps on the door, followed by yelling, and then silence. He knocked again, and this time, the silence was shortened by a faint shuffling sound, before the door swung wide open. A gangly man, maybe in his early twenties, with wavy brown hair to his shoulders, who looked particularly bright with life, considering the hour.

A very quick conversation took place, and then I was ushered inside. One of the guards hovered for a moment in the doorway, and then looked down at me.

"Tu vas rester ici." I was going to stay here. And he left me with this man, closing the door behind him. I immediately took to looking around, however there was only the one candle he'd lit and placed on the table, which caused a series of long shadows all around me. There was stuff anywhere; not necessarily a lush foyer that led to a mansion or anything, but stacks of things on shelves. Large pieces of paper rolled up, a huge number of canvases stacked together. I meant _stuff_, cause there was no real category for all these things.

The man and I sort of just stared at each other for a moment, without making eye contact. He looked like he wanted to go to bed, torn between leaving me standing here, or talking things down. He spoke to me in a quiet voice, and it took me a moment to realize he was speaking english. Accented heavily, though still english. He appeared weary, even though his eyes were wide with curiosity, eyeing my clothing while he spoke.

"My name is Leonardo Di Ser Piero Da Vinci. What is your name, miss?" he spoke slowly, not quite fluent, however he seemed to know enough to get by.

"My name is Abigail Reina Du Muerta. I am lost." I put it simply. His eyes seemed to bulge with curiosity, and he looked me over a fair few times. Yes, my surname is spanish, but my grandfather-my Abuelo- moved from Spain to Australia in the early sixties. My mother had insisted on calling me Abigail after her sister's twin, and for months before my birth my father's parents were positively enraged at the lack of tradition. They probably would've been happier with something like Carlina or Felipa. I don't know, I think my grandmother-my Abuela-had a sister or auntie or something they wanted to name me after. I wasn't listening to the story when it was last told to me.

Anyway, he rubbed his eyes and signalled for me to follow him to a small back room,kind of like an antechamber, only the chamber came first, which led around to a narrow row of stairs running up along the inside of the building. The stairs opened out to a small living room, only it appeared to be missing what_ I_ thought were the essentials-a television, remotes scattered all around the room, some form of entertainment system, but it was all just bare. There wasn't even a couch, just a single four-legged chair pushed underneath a simple desk, pointed toward the window, and an easel made out of a dark, and expensive-looking wood. I couldn't see much metal holding it together, and at that, it wasn't shiny and polished like I was used to.

The whole room seemed to have a very introverted feel to it. I bet he didn't like outside much.

He ushered me into a small room, probably the size of the bathroom in my house. A small, decrepit bed sat in the corner, no taller than a bath. He assessed the room for a moment before ushering me in, and smoothing out a few blankets in the candlelight.

"I am sorry for this mess. I was not warned." I smiled at him and offered a thankyou. He lit a candle beside my bed and left, somehow making the doorway more obsolete. It took me a few minutes to catch up with myself, and that's when I started to freak out.

I said I was tough, but even tough girls have their bad days, and so far this was just downright scary. I didn't know where I was, I didn't know how I got here, I didn't know why. I don't remember anything-I was walking down Lonsdale street and turned into an alleyway, and there was a man there. Just your regular homeless man, sitting down against the wall with a lack of possessions and a lack of hope.

And then, when I turned the corner, I was here. No unusual occurrence, no flash of white light that blinds me, no crazy hologram of an alien with a funny hat. Nothing. Not even some kind of souvenir I could take to get myself back to where I was. And I can tell you now, that there's no way I'm in the same time period as when I was born. There was no way. There was an alarming lack of television antennae out on the rooves. Everything just seemed wrong, like I'd imagined the past to be, only insanely more surreal.

And this wasn't the _past_ past. This was way before that. This was like, the things we read about in our history text book. Before World War one, but after the crusades. And then it occurred to me, the man's name, which caused me to truly flip. Seated on the bed, a jolt racked through me, sending my skull into the wall. Leonardo Di Ser Piero Da Vinci.

I had no idea what the middle part meant, but, Leonardo Da Vinci. Leonardo Da-fucking-Vinci. This meant I was in Italy. How the hell did I get to Italy? And Leonardo Da Vinci… that made this, what, the 1500s? This was the Renaissance: Renaissance Italy. I found myself short of breath as I merely thought the words. I ran it through my brain again and again, and each time it seemed more and more impossible. And amongst it all, I found myself scared.

And alone.

And afraid.


	2. Chapter 2

**note: okay, so the original idea was to write a chapter a week, however i think i'm having difficulty doing just that. i'm going to (hopefully) just get two or more pages done each weekend, seeing as weeknights are far too hectic! and thankyou guys for the first couple reviews or so; i really appreciate it!**

By the morning I was well awake. I'd slept restlessly the whole night, not trusting my surroundings. The night was too quiet, and today, the streets weren't loud, but had a gentle hum. It was like being on Bourke Street, or perhaps more like the intersection of Flinders and Swanston. That intersection was _always_ busy. But not loud. On the floor beneath me, I couldn't hear much until the distinct sound of a door creak, one that I'd heard last night, rang out.

I struggled to get up at first, and once I did, wow, was I sore! My muscles were aching all over, every time I took a step forward, the motion would stretch something in my torso, making me whimper. Now that it was considerably lighter outside, I caught much more than a few glimpses of the tiny little room. I noticed that the room I had slept in didn't have a proper door, but a thick curtain that draped all the way to the floor. I noticed that the desk in the small living room was made of a gorgeous wood, almost purple in this light. I ran my fingers over it, touching, testing, feeling the smooth, satiny surface under my fingertips. I thought it unusual for this era.

I was only focused for a moment before I looked up, and saw for the first time, the city waiting just beyond this frosted window. The city was gorgeous, there were people buzzing about in the tiny square immediately outside the window. The women, most of them covered from collarbone to ankle, with few exceptions. The men in frilly, bright numbers, with the huge collars and tights look—I thought it was ridiculous. This was incredible; how these people were essentially the same as the world I come from. But they're all so different. These aren't the people that I see when I walk through a shopping centre. I couldn't explain my mixed emotions to you.

While I found this absolutely incredible, better than any story my history teacher would have me imagine, I was still scared. Bile swelled at the back of my throat, I was so nervous. I never wanted to leave this room, but my stomach desperately grumbled for some form of sustenance. I felt so bad for intruding on this guy's life, regardless of how famous he'll be in a matter of centuries.

I followed the narrow stairway, and around, until I heard two voices speaking, low and fast, in Italian. I made a small effort to slow down; I really didn't want to get in the way. I heard the door open, and they said their goodbyes. I chose to wait a few seconds before I turned the corner, and very nearly ran into him.

He collected himself, and I apologized. He looked very desperate to communicate better than he could. I stood awkwardly, and for a moment, just looked around the room. It looked better in the light of day, when I could see how huge the room really was. The windows near the front and sides of the house practically glowed, and the sunlight drew huge yellow stains on the floor. The table he'd placed a single candle on last night, was a huge desk. And it was so grand, and beautiful.

I was right to just admit that there was stuff _everywhere._ And a rather huge collection of books, too. It made me happy. It even made me feel a little closer to home. My room was _always_ messy, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

I'd taken in the entire room before I turned back to him, to see that he had his head bent over a bench intently, before he turned to me with a small roll and a sturdy mug of what I assume was coffee. I've always hated coffee, it's so bitter and flavourless, but in this instant, I gratefully took the mug and roll in my hands, and eat. It felt so wonderful to have something trickle down my sore throat.

In a matter of moments I'd finished my food to find him staring at me, looking at me up and down. Not as though he's attracted to me, but as though he's suddenly a fashion designer and thinks my jeans and Star Wars tee are so last year. In a quick motion, he plucked the empty mug from my fingers and snaps his head around just as there were two sharp raps on the door. I didn't really have much of a choice but to stand where I am, and awkwardly try to look busy as he answered the door, and carefully took a decently-sized package in his hands.

"Grazie Annetta." And once the door was closed, he turned to look at me. I barely had a moment to think before he ushered me up the stairs and into my room, pushing the package into my hands before he left. I think, the moment I opened that package, I'd finally fallen in love. The dress was gorgeous, a very form-fitting blue dress, with delicate lace covering the edges. And it was layered, oh so many layers! I realized what he'd done, and how much this must have cost, and marched right out of the room, dress, packaging and all in tow. He looked up from his desk and instantly took on a face of disappointment, making no effort to mask it. Did he _want_ me to parade around in it?

And in that moment, the emotions boiling within me disintegrated, and I realized how nice he was being. He may have spent a lot of money on me, but nevertheless, he was looking after me, and I wasn't being very gracious. I silently stepped back up the stairs, remaining a little shameful for having just done that. I should know better.

I had a lot of trouble putting the dress on, for starters. This wasn't something I could just pull over my head. I had to step into it, then do up the wide straps, and then pull some strings tightly on my back that I couldn't see properly. I decided I needed a mirror, and as such, went downstairs to search, holding the strings very tightly, afraid for the dress to fall off.

I felt severely awkward, but Leonardo tied the dress up for me, and it made me wonder if he did secretly have a girlfriend at some point in history. I knew full well I couldn't go long without feeling even a _little_ horny. My train of thought was interrupted by his hands on my shoulders lightly, making me spin around, before taking a step back, and admiring me like a piece of artwork. Of course.

However before he looked completely satisfied, he asked me simply, "May I?" to which I nodded, and he pulled out my hair clip. My hair cascaded down my back; I could feel its weight over my shoulders, and I turned to face him. The look on his face was positively enthralled.

He settled down after a few moments, and placed a chair for me by the fireplace, and seated himself in his own. I had a rather awkward time trying to learn to sit down in a dress; this was different to my school uniform, it was classier. I felt like I should be wearing a monocle.

We spoke for a long time, I told him how I didn't know where I was or where my family was, or when, and he told me that I was in Florence, Italy, and the date was the 23rd October, 1476. I sort of freaked out, my breathing sped up, my stomach nauseated and getting worse at that part, and curled up in my chair, cursing considerably under my breath, willing myself to believe it wasn't possible. And I was right, it wasn't. It couldn't be.

At that moment, the front door opened, quickly distracting me from my frantic reverie. Leonardo turned and greeted the guest in an awfully friendly way, I noticed. It wasn't until Leonardo called my name that I stood and turned to look at him standing next to his company—a tall, lean figure, shrouded in very thick clothes. The outfit seemed very sophisticated, and the off-white cloak made him look a little rich. I noticed multiple little holes along the wide belt covering his stomach, and couldn't help but wonder what they were for.

"Il s'appelle Ezio." I got the impression he noticed my staring very quickly, and straightened his stance, bowing his head.

"Signora." I _knew_ what that meant, for a nice change. I gave a small curtsy, and the three of us just stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. However, Ezio quickly resolved it by bringing to attention a small cluster of leather, steel, and parchment, and had captivated Leonardo immediately. I took the liberty to sit down by the fireplace again, and it occurred to me that it wasn't even lit, and I had no reason to be sitting by it as of yet. It was a pleasant temperature, anyway.

I traced the stencil of the fireplace with my mind, and I carved every plane of the faint lion sculpture situated above it. The lion alone wasn't pretty, but seemed to work well with the structure of the fireplace. It reminded me of the angel on the front door of Leonardo's home.

Ezio cleared his throat, and took a seat beside me. This time, I really looked at his face, and one thing I noticed, was that he looked so damn tired. Huge dark circles were visible under his eyes—he had the eyes of a child— and a clear darkening on his chin. I didn't really know what happened to him, but he looked positively scared out of his wits. His eyes made him look like a child, even though he had this huge, attractive body. He reminded me of a Calvin Klein model. Trust me, with a guy that attractive, you could see his muscles through _anything_ he put on.

As soon as he opened his mouth, Leonardo said something to him, quickly and quietly, and he did a double take, staring at me questioningly. His gaze turned back to Leonardo, who hunched forward over his desk with a serious concentration face. It was a little bit cute of him. He was an absolutely adorable guy, even though he seemed to be married to his work.

"Pourquoi tu ne peux pas parler l'Italien?" Ezio said to me. I think I would've liked to learn Italian, if not French. Maybe Leonardo could teach me a few things, if he wasn't too busy. I simply shrugged at him. Why doesn't he know English; it can't be that rare in this place! Frankly, I'd imagined going on an exchange program that they offered at my school, and I think the scariest part would've been the inability to communicate. Imagine turning on the radio, only to not understand a word of it?

If I could've guessed what Leonardo said at that moment, it would've been how I've barely been in Florence for two days, maybe three. I could've sworn there was a small hint of bitterness in his tone; was I that much of a bother to take care of? Perhaps I ought to make myself more useful; at home, I would never offer, but here was different. What if he got fed up with me, and kicked me out? I didn't have anywhere to go. The thought honestly scared me.

Later, after Ezio had left with a pretty scary-looking weapon, I'd grown tired of sitting still. I'd done my best to clean, while making sure to avoid things I didn't think he'd want me to be looking through. I dusted the living room upstairs, made a simple lunch of bread, fruit,—funny, as I'd never liked figs before—and salted meat Leonardo had bought earlier in the morning while I slept, and run a simple errand for Leonardo. It felt a little wrong to call him that, considering how much he shaped the world I live in.

One thing I did notice, was a model hoisted into the air, made solidly of wood. I would've said it looked much like a large bat, if I hadn't known better. It was his flying machine; I'd read about it, along with the history of the Mona Lisa, which took roughly sixteen years to paint, from what I can remember. I'd gotten close enough to touch the model when Leonardo cleared his throat loudly behind me.

I turned to meet his eyes, and felt suddenly nervous. He wasn't quite disapproving, but not altogether happy with coming into the room to find my hand outstretched toward what was probably one of his prize possessions at the time. I immediately looked to my feet, my cheeks red.

"I—" I was interrupted by two sharp raps on the front door, followed by some angry-sounding yelling. I made an effort to stand out of immediate line of sight, however I watched Leonardo as he spoke to the man at the door. I recognised the incredulous look on his face, before he nodded and left the house, and the door wide open.

It took me a moment of listening until my muscles almost systematically moved toward the door. At the same time that I looked follow Leonardo, wherever he may have gone, I ran head-first, straight into a taut, broad chest. Ezio took barely a moment to look down at me with an almost angry look before snapping his head to the right at the next sound. It was sort of a low pitched wail, like a dog that had just been kicked. His dark eyes took one last glance at me, before I watched him saunter alongside the building and disappear around a corner.

My heart was tight in my chest as I realized that if he'd just decided to disappear for the night, just as fast as he'd appeared, I'd be alone. And alone was something that I certainly did not want to be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hope the last cliffy wasn't a letdown. (;  
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It took a few moments, but my fear had frozen me solidly in place, so badly that I hadn't realized until Leonardo reappeared a metre from me that he hadn't gone far. Relief washed through my system. Behind him, I could see a large shadow, which I assumed to be Ezio. Yes, Ezio wasn't exactly the tallest man I'd ever met, but he was huge compare to me. It was like last year—well, what would have been 2011 for me—when I was always in a constant struggle to get my books from my locker on time, and there were always these tall year twelve boys that towered over me. I always felt _tiny._

It wasn't until Leonardo had passed me and gently tugged me along with him that I saw Ezio was carrying something. It was tall, limp, and clad in red and black, and it made me cry out, scrambling to my feet and against the wall behind me, knocking things as I went. It was a body, a real, dead body. And Ezio seemed to have no problem with this, with holding the body of a man who was alive just this morning. What the hell was going through his head?

Before I could tell what Ezio was doing with the body, he turned to look at me, and I saw the man's face. His collar was stained dark red, trailing all down his front, and his arms dangled lifelessly from his sides. Something seemed to change in Ezio's facial expression, it looked much like worry. I sat, huddled in the corner, but I couldn't look away. What if _he_ did that? What if the person I was in the same room as, was a _killer?_ What could possibly be going through his head?

It took a few moments of sheer panic, and then Leonardo was gripping my arm, trying to pull me to my feet, but I wouldn't budge. I could see Ezio striding over toward me from across the room, and on the inside of his left arm, there was a glint of silver; merely a quick glitter in the yellow lamp light. As he got closer, I tried to move further, to melt away into the wall. The thought of being near him petrified me, to the point that when he picked me up, and said a quick, hushed "_I'm sorry, Signorina_," I struggled and struggled to wriggle free.

I wasn't exactly the lightest girl I'd ever seen, and here he was, carrying me in his arms like I was a child who'd been bad and was sentenced to a night of bed without dinner. He was _strong_, and not like any of the boys in my class strong. He gave the impression that he did this on a daily basis; _surely_ he has a sibling or two. He kept his composure completely, his lips pressed to a thin line. About three-quarters of the way up the stairs, I had the most ingenious idea to bite him on the arm.

He very nearly dropped me, however the wall seemed to catch me, and in that moment I know I should've been paying attention to what he was saying, because he let me go, and grabbed me tightly by the arm, pushing me along and very nearly throwing me onto the love seat. I was panicking; what was he going to do to me?

His hands clamped down on my shoulders, forcing me to look him in the eye. And he seemed calm; why was he so calm? It was so dim in the room that I could only just see the outline of his face. Light shone from a single candle lit in the corner of the room, making shadows well in the corners of the room. The shadows under his eyes hadn't disappeared from the last time I'd seen them—in fact, this time they looked more pronounced. He spoke in a slow, clear tone, like he was trying to tell me my mother had died, or something to that effect. Tears threatened to well up and spill over, and for a moment, I just stopped.

"It's okay, signora. Nous sommes bon. C'est bon." A slow murmur, that was oddly comforting in such a foreign place. The images still flashed through my head—that poor man's lifeless corpse, his blank face, the blood colouring his shirt. It was horrible, all of it. A sob tore out of my chest, a single gripping cry that completely destroyed my composure. I let my hair fall in my face, tears trailing down my rouge cheeks. I think I had very nearly forgotten about Ezio, but he didn't seem to notice that himself. In fact, when I looked back up at him, he looked sympathetic, as though there was nothing he could do; and yes, what could he do? I was a stranger who'd just walked into his friend's life; I didn't know him, I didn't know his family, I didn't know _anyone._ I didn't even know the language.

I could hear Leonardo ascending the stairs, and the pressure on my shoulders was released; I was free. I wrapped my arms around myself, and forced the tears to stop. Ezio spoke a few quiet words to Leonardo, and then they both turned to look at me. An old fear came to mind.

"Please don't throw me out." Ezio glanced toward Leonardo, who looked positively astonished. The air was thick with confusion, all of us struggling to understand the other. The humidity caused the blue dress to cling to my skin in all sorts of uncomfortable fashions.

"Why would I do that?" Leonardo replied. Ezio's eyes seemed to beg for an answer, and Leonardo finally did. The pit of my stomach was filled with disbelief; not that I meant to doubt his words, but could you really blame me? I didn't know what the hell I was doing.

"Signora, nous pensons il faut vous allons à Monteriggioni avec Ser Ezio, et son famille. Pour un peu de temps." I really didn't know how to feel about this.

"Pourquoi?"

"Il n'est pas sure ici." This place was probably safer than the streets of Melbourne at five in the afternoon. I'd never exactly ran into trouble anyway, but the idea still ran chills through my bones. When I looked to Leonardo again he was murmuring quietly to Ezio, and they both exchanged a very meaningful look.

"Je peux apprendre l'Italien? Je suis une étudiant bien. Je peux—"

"D'accord." And nothing else was said. Ezio turned to Leonardo for a moment, and then made his way toward the stairs.

"Je suis desolée, mademoiselle. Je vais vous-voir sur le matin." I just nodded, and he left. I stared at the wall for a long while before Leonardo brought me out of my reverie.

That night, Leonardo started teaching me the language. By morning, when Ezio came back, he told Leonardo of his plans to take his family to his uncle's villa in the Italian countryside. They were leaving that afternoon, after Ezio had dealt with some things. I was to meet them at the south gate to Florence, and I did so with the utmost obedience. There was no way I'd want to sacrifice their generous hospitality simply because I was in a bad mood.

Leonardo had bought me two dresses, the blue one I'd been wearing, and a pale red one with brown edges. It's not that I wasn't used to having my dresses cut low, or to have them formfitting, it was the fact that I didn't have any shorts or tights on underneath the many layers of skirts. It felt like I was constantly dressing up for a wedding, or a debutante ball, but no. It was just plain every day wear.

I'd been told what to expect, and what not to say in front of Ezio and his family. When he appeared at the gate, he ushered along two women. One of them, a woman who looked to be in her forties, was finely dressed, and very modestly, at that. Beside her was a girl who looked my age, and to be honest, a little surreal. She hung her head low, and it looked like she was annoying Ezio. It sounded like she was asking him the same questions repeatedly; well, everything sounded the same to me here, but this sounded more the same. They simply _had_ to be siblings.

Moments before Florence disappeared completely behind us, I caught sight of three men, wearing the same apparel as the man who'd found me in the alleyway, almost charging out of the gates. It looked as though they were searching for something, and the entire three seconds in which I saw them go from running to searching gave me a haunting chill down my spine. Ezio had tugged me along, forcing me to look back to the road ahead.

One thing I hadn't expected, was to have to walk the entire distance. It was the better half of a day, and I spent most of it thinking, like I had done every day on the 20 minute walk home from the bus stop after school. I didn't have a watch on me, either, so I had no hope of knowing how long exactly. It wasn't an altogether tiring walk, but just dragged on for an annoyingly long time.

The two women—I may aswell refer to them as women, because they're not exactly girls—constantly needed a break to rest. They must've been wealthy, or else they'd have better known the burn of exercise. Sports and I never got along; balls always seemed to fly toward my head, like I was a magnet. I probably was. Even a baseball bat wanted to get friendly with my shin once—I had a huge bruise there for weeks on end.

I think it was about an hour before we arrived, when a small man on a horse caught up to us. He looked like he'd been riding for maybe an hour; he wasn't exactly tired, but he wasn't all that fresh on the horse. He approached us yelling "Ser Ezio!" and Ezio almost threw me into the forestry on the side of the road, and yelled at the two women to follow suit.

A small piece of paper, barely the size of my palm, was transferred into Ezio's grip, and the man I'd assume to be a courier, took off in the same direction of which he'd just come. A few silent moments passed, and Ezio was signalling for us to come back out onto the road. I had to ask.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est, monsieur?" and he waved it off. Curiosity bit at my ankles, but I stayed silent for the remainder of the journey.

The villa that Ezio had told us about looked rather like a small castle from the outside. The forest surrounding the road we'd taken to get here had disappeared, and had been replaced with tall hills flanking the road. It was like we were in a small valley, and the only exit was within reach. Ezio had called it _Monteriggioni_, and I could see when he said it, the happiness in his eyes.

He'd been taken completely off-guard when a distant shadow began to slowly take shape of a man. He wasn't very tall, maybe a head shorter than Ezio, but his figure was just as muscly as Ezio. Maybe with a larger stomach, too. He wore a beret that reminded me of my grandfather, and like a fair few of the men I'd seen back in Florence, he too had a puffy collar like Queen Elizabeth. That thought stopped my staring at this man, and made me wonder. Was Queen Elizabeth even alive yet? I desperately wished I'd payed attention in history last semester. Maybe I would have done better on the mid-year exam, too. So many things could be fixed by simply paying attention.

The man yelled across the distance between himself and Ezio, and Ezio instantly snapped to attention. The two women who'd been trailing closely behind him, he ordered back with a wave of his hand. They spoke, and though I could barely understand them, I'll just say, this guy looked _sinister._ Not really quite up to evil genius status, but more like Scott at the end of Austin Powers: Goldmember; a bit of a try-hard in my eyes. I couldn't bring myself to believe he was all that serious until a cluster of guards started to appear at the stop of the small hills that flanked the roads, and in turn, flanked us, and then he drew his sword.

Admittedly, since I'd come… well, _here_, I'd like to say that this isn't what I'm normally like. At home, I don't see dead bodies every day. It'd be a bit worrying if I did, but all the same, please understand this. This time, when Ezio went straight for a guard who'd gotten too close to his mother, I could see the blind rage in his eyes as he swung his sword in his hand, and hit home. I watched the blood spill forth from the man's abdomen, and topple over with his hands clutched to his stomach. Ezio's blade was stained scarlet, and for a sheer moment, I couldn't move a thing. A man grabbed at my arm, hauling me back against him.

Initially, I cried out. I could hear somewhere in the background, someone was screaming, but Ezio was frozen in place. For a moment, all was silent. All was still. I looked down, and saw a blade to my throat. There was a severe ringing in the back of my ears; I didn't know what to do. My breath hitched in my throat, and I caught Ezio's eyes, his as wide as mine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Could you guys let me know if I should stop writing in French? It's only basic, but some people may not like it, and I only just realized how much I was using after writing this chapter. :L**

At that moment, the man—well, he was more boyish than man-ish,—laughed, rather evilly too. I watched him raise his hand from his side, every millisecond an agony, and at last, he made a signal to the man holding me in a vice grip so tight I almost couldn't breathe. A quick flick of his wrist, and I gulped down a final breath and shut my eyes.

The pressure was lifted from my throat, and I heard his sword clatter to the ground. I was almost afraid to open my eyes, until I heard the sound of yelling. Of the two dozen men that had accompanied the one boy, he was the only one standing. Looking down at the ground behind me, I could see the man who'd previously held his sword to my throat, with an arrow protruding from his eye socket; I made an effort not to look too closely.

A league of men, no more than ten of them, poured in from a bridge in the distance I hadn't yet seen, and looked rather scraggy if I do say so myself. They looked like a cross between the tradies and hippies of my time.

The hippy-tradies came down both sets of slopes, too, led by a burly man with a crazy-looking pale scar across his left eye, the eyeball whitened to make him appear half-blind. He had dark hair that was graying in places and wrinkles that stretched when he smiled. I watched Ezio as they spoke, watching his features change from cautious to confused to pleasantly surprised. He embraced the older man, and from that, I knew this was him; Ezio's uncle, Mario. Oh god, wouldn't it have been comical if he were wearing a bright red suit. I had to suppress the thought as Mario's eyes raked over the two women and then over me.

After one raised eyebrow, we were walked to the gates of Monteriggioni-it was an odd name, but I knew that I'd be spending a long time just letting it roll off my tongue later. The gates were made of wrought iron, and inside the gates was an architect's dream. I absolutely adored pretty buildings; there is nothing I wished for more than to see the inside of the Sistine Chapel, the Il Duomo, to roam around Venice for a day... I sighed as we walked down a main street, lined with what looked like dried-up shops. I don't think I saw a single person around on the walk up to the villa itself. It loomed up infront of us, presented with a circular stairwell, and at the very bottom, a symbol I'd seen before, carved out of stone. Ezio wore it on his belt, it was also on the blade on his left arm. Surely it meant something interesting; I hadn't seen it prior to now in any book I'd come across. I'd have to research it when I returned home.

The thought of home turned my euphoria to that of sickness. If I didn't know how I had gotten here, how did I plan on returning home? I hadn't paid attention to Ezio and Mario speaking before, as I didn't understand in the first place, but thinking of home caused me to crash into the back of Ezio as they all paused to take a look at the villa they were apparently calling home for the time being. My cheeks warmed, but Ezio hardly noticed me. Everyone had grown quiet for a few moments before Ezio turned to me, gesturing to me several times before speaking directly at me.

"Tu veux voir ton chambre?" I nodded.

"S'il vous plaît, monsieur." I looked to Mario. "Et merci, monsieur, pour tout." Ezio translated, and the taller man nodded with a kind smile, before departing. Ezio and I were left alone in a large, white foyer, each column looking to be carved by hand. Stairs flowed up against one wall, and a small interior balcony trailed around the inside of the room, paintings decorating the walls. Ezio had started to walk toward a large wooden door, but stopped when he noticed I wasn't following.

"Allons-y, signora." and at that, I followed. Each hallway was lined half with a rich, dark timber, and a lovely patterned design, though I didn't know if it was painted or a material spread across the walls. I didn't pay much attention to the directions of the short walk it took to get to my room, however when we stopped at the door, I instantly knew. The corridor had grown narrower, making Ezio's figure look somewhat like a giant. I could see his right shoulder moving, and with a simple click, he opened the door to a lovely little room. I didn't know what I'd been expecting, but I think this little room was nice enough.

The walls were completely timber, roof to floor, and the furnishings were fairly simple. A plain double bed, flanked by two bedside tables, covered one wall. Opposite that, a desk looked awfully lonely without a chair. Another door, smaller than the one I had just come through, hugged the wall in the corner opposite me. I didn't know exactly how long I'd been staring for, but when I snapped to attention again, Ezio was leaning in the doorway, looking at me. As soon as our eyes met, the absent-minded look faded from his eyes, and he straightened up.

"Je vais tu récupe pour le dîner." he spoke slowly; the words didn't sound right. I think he had a fair bit to learn of French aswell, nowhere near perfect yet.

I nodded, and he left, closing the door quietly behind him. I went straight for the bed-I hadn't noticed it before, but my legs ached. I curled up on the bed, and just stayed there. I don't know how long I stayed there, but I think I fell asleep, because it was only moments later when Ezio's sister knocked on the door, startling me awake. It was a darker sleep than usual; I didn't dream, so I must've been tired. I climbed out of bed, and found her waiting in the hallway. I made sure to pay attention to the directions this time.

After dinner, I was asked to accompany Ezio and his uncle to the study. When we arrived, they were already deep in conversation, and it sounded like the two of them were arguing.

"Prenez une chaise, Abigail." Ezio told me, and I sat, looking around me. The ceiling was very tall, and there was a balcony cutting into one side on the second floor. All but a single wall was lined with books, shelf after shelf of them. I don't think they noticed me when I got up and started to browse. I didn't normally become acquainted with a library so quickly, but it wasn't as if I had other things to do. I had ample time to look around. At first, I wasn't sure if I would be allowed to touch them, but Ezio and Mario didn't look anywhere near finished, so I looked, one by one at all the books that looked interesting. It didn't occur to me that I might need to understand the language of these books to read them; for the moment I was happy to run my hand down the spines, and breathe in the smell of dusty pages.

I worked my way around the entire room, until I fell back into the last corner, and saw the book I liked most. It had golden writing on a dark green matte colour, and a thin golden border to match. Only, it was very high up. I reached on the very tips of my toes, but still had some distance to cover. I glanced over at Ezio and Mario, only to realize they'd left the room. That would be why it was so quiet all of a sudden. I looked back to my hand reaching toward the book, and a thought crossed my mind. I tried to shake the bookshelf to see if it would come free, to no avail, and then hoisted myself up onto the first shelf. I was almost there. I moved up another shelf, and reached for the book. It came away easily, obviously not wedged into the shelf like some of the other books had been. I went to put my foot down a shelf, but couldn't find it. I grabbed back at the shelf to push myself against it, but I merely dropped a few books in the process.

Out of the quiet, something loud and heavy groaned beneath me. I froze, as the bookshelf itself started to move, and the moment I noticed where it was going, I dropped off the bookshelf, my back hitting hard the few books I'd knocked onto the floor. I sat up to right myself, and gawked at where the bookcase had been. The wall itself looked to be hollowed out, and _dark_, and somehow reminded me of the story of Rapunzel, and how she found a trap door that allowed her to disappear from her prison for a few hours a day. For a moment, I wanted to. And then my morbid fear of the dark kicked in, almost forcing me to scramble away from the door on my hands and knees. A small searing pain graced my right hand with its presence, and I yelped.

"What are you _doing_!" I assumed it to be Ezio, but it occurred to me that he didn't know English, and I just turned to look at him wide-eyed. When I found myself looking to a not-quite-angry-but-almost-there Mario, I very nearly panicked. He sauntered over to the moving-bookshelf and reached behind it, I heard a faint click, and then I watched the bookcase screech back into its former position.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." I said quietly; wait, he knew English? What the hell was going on exactly? He didn't even hint at it before, so why was he hiding this? I racked my brain for reasons, but instead came up blank. Ezio entered, and while they moved to hover around the desk, I picked up the books I'd knocked over. I'd have to check back here later, see how that worked. Maybe I could replicate it when I got home…

When I turned to pick up the scattered books, Ezio grabbed for the tall pile I had in my hand, and placed them down by the shelf. We hovered around the desk situated in the middle of the table, I assumed we were discussing plans. Well, _they_ were discussing plans. And then they turned to me.

I explained everything to them, who I was and that I didn't know how I'd gotten here. I didn't mention that I was from the future; that was something I best left untold. I mentioned how the guards had regarded me—mind the pun—and how they took me to Leonardo Da Vinci, and how he could speak English, and was teaching me to speak Italian. At one point I was asked if I had any talents, but I suspect they meant anything that could be useful. I wasn't trying to be a cynic, but people just tend to be like that a fair bit.

I didn't really have anything in particular; however I did mention that I was good at reading; I didn't necessarily enjoy it, but I was good at it. Perhaps they could set me up at a bookshop or something; even though it conjured a cold, poisonous sickness in my stomach, I had to consider the possibility that I was going to be here a while. And while I absolutely hated anything similar to a library, I was thinking of myself in terms of usefulness now. I felt like I had to.

Ezio and Mario seemed to have a small disagreement on something, though I couldn't tell you what. Ezio was adamant, and Mario, well, he looked positively enraged, and a little disappointed. When they left for the training ring, which I hadn't noticed on the walk up to the Villa itself, I retired for the night. It had gotten dark, and as such, I brought a lit candle with me; I didn't want to learn to use the gas lamps tonight. I'd tired myself out considerably, however when I fell asleep, the night itself was horrifying. I had dreams of the bodies I'd seen, their faces floating up to meet me, talking words at me. I couldn't get any of it out of my head, and the blood. Oh the blood.

I had a nightmare, however I did not wake until the sun was well in the sky, the air around the window warm with the day's light. I felt positively horrid, my hair was everywhere and a pillow was half way across the room. I was thankful that the sun was up; I hated the dark.

I traced my steps through the corridors, mostly watching my feet, but stopped dead in my tracks at a door left slightly ajar. Of course, curiosity got the better of me, and I peered in, taking note of the heavy carved furniture, the gorgeous red rug that completely covered the floor, and the woman that kneeled by her bed, looking like she was praying. There was no expression on her face whatsoever, but the thin lines of lethargy made her look older than I suspected she really was. I was sure this was Ezio's mother. _Madre_, they'd said. I was learning, believe it or not.

I stood in the doorway, scrutinizing the room when a girl, the one I recognized as Ezio's sister Claudia, emerged from a doorway I hadn't noticed before. I immediately scurried to move, and turned a corner just before I heard the door creak open. Silently I waited for the door to creak shut again, and once it did, I sighed audibly into the quiet, closing my eyes and leaning my head back against the wall. There was a faint scuffling noise, and then I opened my eyes, and yelled out in fright. Ezio was standing in front of me, not uncomfortably close, but not far away either, with a very amused expression on his face, one eyebrow raised. I could feel scarlet flowing into my cheeks, hoping desperately he wouldn't see that. I wasn't sure if my eyes were playing tricks on me, but I could swear I saw a faint purple bruise under his right eye as he turned away, in the direction I'd just come.


	5. Chapter 5

**From now on, if I write in English, they're speaking in Italian! Just to confuse y'all more! **

I spent a few months studying Italian. It was flexible, and my schedule itself seemed to flow with the rise and fall of the sun each day. I hadn't asked any of the questions that racked my brain constantly, I could just never find a good time. However very soon, I had many things explained to me; how men known as "Templars" were out to get something of great importance, and how we—in this context being Mario and Ezio—were their enemies, born to stop them. It was a little odd; for the first few days, Ezio seemed genuinely angry, but then he became just as moderated as ever. I didn't really keep track of the days as they went past, and Ezio started to come and go. With the turn of the New Year, there were many celebrations, and I'd accepted life as it was now.

I missed everything from home a lot, and of the few things I had in my bag with me at the time I'd come here, my phone, eyeliner, purse and the like, I hadn't been able to show anyone. I had to wait until nightfall before I could use them, and as unsurprising as possible, I didn't have any form of signal on my phone. Checking it every night quickly made the battery run flat, so I just gave up on it altogether. But I never forgot.

I think being constantly surrounded by the Italian language, had a greater impact on my learning. I'd studied French for three and a half years in an English-speaking environment, but I'd gotten to roughly the same level learning Italian in just over one year. The books I'd looked at in Mario's library had started to come together, but they spoke of odd things. I read about a man named Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, who travelled far to further the "assassin cause". He'd sent his men all over the world to spread this cause. It is said that Altaïr ordered everyone to leave Masyaf, but there was no mention of what happened to him. A curious case, I thought.

Life itself was rather dull for me. In the past—my past—I'd tried skateboarding, park our, gymnastics, athletics, but I was never any good, so I often settled for videogaming, or reading or writing, or some other form of indoor recreation. But now, having spent the better half of a year without sweat inducing activity, my entire being was aching for some kind of physical exertion, and as such, I went out into the town. There weren't many people around, but there were more than when I'd first arrived. A shop had opened up, too, and I could tell from the big letters spelling DOTTORE above the window, that there was a doctor there. I think in my time he'd be a chemist, but for this period of time, that was the best that these people could get.

I tried something I'd once seen Ezio do; climb a building. He made it look so easy how he simply grabbed for a ledge and hauled himself up onto the roof, travelling long distances just hopping from roof to roof. After my first attempt, I had splinters in my fingers, and found myself wondering how the hell he did it. Surely he didn't keep a bench press in his room; did they have them at this point in time? From then on, I mostly sticked to the streets. Once, I ventured outside the city, and did a loop around the high walls. When I returned, Claudia looked stressed to high heaven, wondering where I'd been and going on about how I'd disappeared.

I continued to study and read until I was told one day, that I would return to Florence. Ezio and I set off the following morning, rather excited to be leaving the small town. We travelled on horseback, the journey taking us considerably less time for the distance. Where we'd left on foor for Monteriggioni around 10am and arrived at dusk, this time we left just after midday and arrived just before the sun touched the hills on the horizon.

Immediately, Ezio changed the mode of his entire presence. We'd spoken little on the way, aside from the occasional question, or observation, a relaxed aura, whereas now, he looked deadly; stoic posture, pallid features. He looked the same way he did after he'd appeared in Leonardo's doorway with a limp corpse in his hands. That memory still frightened me, though I'd grown slightly desensitized to it. Only slightly.

We left the horses at the main gate, and upon entering the city, Ezio explained something to me: we could not be seen together, under any circumstances, as doing so could potentially put my life at risk. He explained to me the city, how the roads were woven, what landmarks I could look for if I lost my way. He told me to get to a high place to find my way, and to stay clear of the guards in doing so. I didn't forget a word of it.

I arrived at Leonardo's house before Ezio. He was supposed to come an hour later, after I'd updated Leonardo on all that had happened. Leonardo looked positively enthralled to see me, and greeted me with a surprising hug. He was impressed by how well I could speak, looking pleasantly surprised by it while I sat and watched him paint.

We were happily chatting away when I heard shouting, faint but nearby. The smile fell from my eyes and I immediately crossed the room to the door, throwing it open with a single, fluid motion. Everywhere, all around me, it looked as though hell itself had broken loose, the metallic sound of swords sliced through the air. To my left, though far away, I could see Ezio-he was impossible not to recognise-fighting a few men, none of them looking like guards. For a bare second, I stopped to stare at the chaos around me, and then I took off toward Ezio with my skirts gathered in my hands, making sure to avoid the groups of guards slashing their swords across at one another or myself.

Everywhere I could see blood; red staining the pavement, flowing into one crimson stream in the cracks of the ground. Now that I'd gotten closer, the crowd had completely dispersed. Ezio was fighting a man with a very flashy looking cape and hat. Another, in a blue robe—I _so_ would've called it a dress in other circumstances—looked to be bleeding out, though still wielding a sword. He also looked to be pretty decent at it, too. I saw no way around all the guards fighting, Ezio in amongst them all, so I circled around, hugging the wall and narrowly avoiding the swinging of silver.

If this were a videogame, I would daresay that Ezio had some pretty sweet moves, though now, it was bordering scary. Well, not exactly scary, but it was the kind of thing you never forgot. I had to remind myself everything I'd been told, the mental training I'd put myself through so I didn't freeze up when I saw people dying. It seemed to happen around Ezio _a lot, _too. I found myself with my back to the huge doors that stood out from this—was it a church? I thought so.

The man in the blue dress fell back against the side of the church, guards honing in on him from all sides. Ezio was eloquently dispatching them like dominoes, looking as confident as could be. I was too intently focused on Ezio that I didn't notice a dark shadow loom up infront of me. I ducked to get out of the way, barely making it before I heard a sword strike the marbly-granite material of the church's stairs. I rolled for a moment, before trying to get to my feet. I tried to make a break for it, but the man gave chase, and it wasn't until he pulled me back by my hair that I recognized who he was. I really didn't like the look on his face. I cried out, loud and sharp, as he tugged ruthlessly on my hair before throwing me back. I lost my footing and fell back awkwardly on the one tiny step. In this huge, entire courtyard, I had to fall on this one tiny step.

He stood over me, but his sword didn't reach me, as two small silver rods, no bigger than the span of my hand, found their way into his biceps. He dropped his sword and cried out in pain, darting away and out of sight. One of the silver rods had fallen to the ground near my feet, and on closer inspection I noticed it was a knife, with a pretty hilt and very sharp edge, currently stained with red. I scrambled to get up, not wasting another second on the ground. I went straight for the man in blue, and had my hands out beside my face, palms flat as I approached him.

For a moment, he wore a guarded expression, before toppling to his knees. I ran over to his side at the same time he spoke to Ezio.

"You saved my life." the slashing of swords had completely dissipated in the immediate area; there were bodies everywhere. The man's name was Lorenzo De Medici; I worked so hard to hide the surprise and utter admiration on my face. A single glance from Ezio told me this was not the time, and snapped out of my own interests for a minute. I didn't entirely understand the conversation, but we ended up running through the chaotic streets, weaving in and around guards fighting other guards, me trying to hold Lorenzo up, and Ezio fending everyone off who dared challenge him, until we came to a large wooden door.

Behind that wooden door, the place looked beautiful. Here was a paved pathway, and small patches where grass and flowers glowed lazily in the sun. Ezio and Lorenzo talked but for a few moments, and then the guard who'd answered the door ushered us out. I could tell that Ezio didn't like the idea of me tagging along, but all the same, I could prove valuable. It was possible.

I ran alongside Ezio, a few paces back from him. I got the distinct impression he wasn't running to his full ability; I'd surely have lost him by now. But he ran silently until we came to a large square, a large wooden structure I'd recognised as gallows. It surprised me that they didn't use the guillotine like France did-assuming it was around at this point in time. Still, it proved as effective as anything else. Behind them stood a huge structure that had one large tower spiring upwards from the center of it. Ezio pulled me to the edge of the square, and around another turn until we found a ladder. Immediately, he all but pushed me up it, following along behind me without a word.

Ezio led me along the rooftops, showing me where to walk so I wouldn't potentially slip and die, and eventually the amount of roofing came up short. The roof tiles ceased, and the angle of the roofing flattened, to the point where it closely resembled a small veranda, only two stories off the ground. I think I had a hissy fit when he told me to stay there; the last thing I wanted to do was keep watch. A single intense look from him, and I was parking myself on the ground. Roof. Ground-roof. Thing.

I don't know how long I stayed there, but I could hear everything. I watched Ezio run into the distance and disappear around a corner. All was quiet until a faint cry could be heard, and I saw a faint shadow fall down the side of the huge building. The sun slowly sank, and every so often I heard another yell. It didn't seem as real when it was far away. I made a quick assessment of the area and decided I wanted a better view, though I made sure not to go far, parking myself right on the corner where I could look down on into the square, and see the front of the huge building.

At first, there was nothing, the mute buzz of the world's noises; a slight wind, a bird, trees rustling, shouting.

The screaming grew louder, and as I turned to stare at the top of this huge building, I saw the man—the same man who would've liked to kill me, I think. I watched him fall, and Ezio following suit moments later. Instantly, I yelled his name, and was running for the edge of the rooftop, watching in hope that he wouldn't get hurt. But he landed, seemingly effortlessly, in a cart of hay. It was one of those times where you'd like to slap someone; I desperately wanted to slap him.

I was awkwardly lying across the edge of the roof as I watched them disappear around a corner. My heartbeat was loudly thudding away behind my ears, and I felt the same kind of fear that I felt when both Leonardo and Ezio disappeared into the night over a year ago. Time passed indefinitely, I couldn't tell if a minute or an hour had passed, but I yelped loudly when Ezio spoke from behind me. This was another instant in which I could've slapped him.

He helped me to my feet, and watched on from above as people gathered in the square. He explained that the man he just killed, Francesco De Pazzi, had organized an entire conspiracy to kill the entire Medici family. I thought I'd heard this before, but I never read of a man who steps in to save Lorenzo De Medici's life-or his own little Shortround. A faint chant had started in the crowd. It had grown from a few dozen to a number in the hundreds. A man on his horse was among them, and none of them looked happy. They were shouting a single word-"Liberta." _Freedom. _

A few moments passed, the two of us stood side-by-side, watching the crowd in uproar. Ezio was watching intently, I took a quick glance of his face, but before I'd turned back to the crowd, people started to scream. It wasn't a nice scream, but more of a horrified, blood-curdling scream. Both Ezio and I snapped to attention-

Ezio caught me firmly by the wrist, and as I turned to face him I collided with his chest. He covered my head, half buried in his chest, with one hand, and with the other he clamped his arm firmly around my waist. I struggled for a moment before he murmured in my ear "Don't look, Signora. Don't look." but I'd already seen, and my eyes were watering. I didn't mean to, but some things you couldn't control.


	6. Chapter 6

The crowd below eventually got quieter, the screaming died off—well, all the noise died off. Ezio pulled me toward the edge of the roof, still yelling at me not to look, but I caught another glimpse. It was the man—Francesco De Pazzi—hanging almost naked from the top of the building. Later, on the way to Leonardo's, he explained that the square itself was called the Piazza Della Signoria, and the building, the Palazzo Vecchio. As he said it, I could hear the pain in his voice. I might have been imagining, but the weak tone made me take a glance of his features. And I noticed above all, his eyes were hard. He had lovely eyes, the colour of my favourite chocolate back home, which shined even in the yellow lamp light of the streets of Florence. We spoke little beyond that, and when we arrived at Leonardo's, Ezio's mood seemed to lighten thoroughly.

I was offered the same room as the previous time I'd stayed here. Ezio told us he'd find somewhere nearby to stay, and we didn't see him again until morning. When morning came, a message was sent to me to meet him at a certain time and place. I was beginning to learn my way around, noting pathways to certain shops and landmarks. Ezio had just turned out of a doorway and into the street I was heading toward, and upon noticing me, headed straight for me. He wasn't one for filling in every second detail, but all the same, I would have liked to know. It's always easier to explain things when you have all the information. On the journey back to Monteriggioni, I managed to get a few things out of him.

Firstly, the man he'd killed and I'd saw hanging from the Palazzo Vecchio wasn't only Francesco De Pazzi, but one of the head orchestrators of a "Templar" conspiracy that ran further back than he himself. He was under the belief he had to kill everyone in power, and at the moment, the count was at three: Uberto Alberti, Vieri De Pazzi, and his father Francesco De Pazzi.

Secondly, the next target was in San Gimignano, probably trying their best to hide. He didn't mention a name though; his vague half-answers were going to get annoying soon.

I think I was already getting sick of the long hours of riding it took just to get around between places. The scenery didn't change particularly much, and it wasn't as if the road was busy with traffic. I had myself conpletely lost in thought, with my horse simply following Ezio. If Ezio's horse hadn't stopped, I don't think he would've been able to get my attention any other way. He'd brought lunch, apparently, so we sat and ate along the side of the road on a few large rocks. It was a calm setting, trees ruffling, birds chirping, and I think I could hear the flow of a river somewhere nearby. And there were no cars; even after a year or however long it was, I still expected a car to pull up, no matter where I was. Ezio asked me, calmly, and quietly, if everything was okay. I didn't really have a reply, but I knew exactly what he was talking about.

Images flashed through my head, again and again. It was unsettling to see someone's face slack, and their eyes glassy, unfocused. Their limbs drooping wherever they may. It was horrifying, and left an unpleasant taste in my mouth. I struggled to grip onto something to say, anything, but nothing came to mind. I just looked at him and smiled. It was this kind of moment that I liked; sometimes, when he had nothing better to do, he'd return to Monteriggioni for a few days, and he'd come see me. We'd spend time together, not with an ulterior motive, really, but because we enjoyed one another's company—or, at least, I enjoyed his. I wasn't entire sure if he enjoyed mine.

I'd come to know him; he liked the female gender, he had learned French, and to play the guitar in the past as a result. He used to run errands for his father—mainly delivering messages and letters, that sort of thing—until that day. He always grazed over the details, claimed that he couldn't remember much, but I never pushed him further. I could tell that he remembered every second and how it felt like an hour. I knew that feeling.

I'd even told him about myself; I told him that I'd been learning the piano for seven years, and that I wasn't completely sure if it existed at this point in time. I had to explain how I'd come here again, but I didn't have any information, there was so little to tell. I told him about my family; I had a mother and father, and an older brother. I was ill at ease when it came to telling much beyond that. I never talked about my life much—I didn't want to tell him too much, because I didn't know what telling him would do. What if I talked about something that hadn't existed, and forever changed the course of time itself? What if it was like in Back to the Future 3, and the only way to fix it was to go back to the exact point in time which the change occurred and either stop it completely, or undo it once it was done? There were so many what-ifs to consider, so I generally avoided the subject in its entirety. I did mention that I was good in English and History when it came to school. Everything else was slightly sketchy to me, I wasn't good at anything else in particular.

It didn't really count now, though. I could write an essay if they'd asked me to, but I wasn't good at cooking. I wouldn't go as far as to say I could burn two-minute noodles, but I couldn't even make a good carbonara. I was plain horrid at it; when my parents left me home alone, I lived off toast, and when there was no bread, it was scrambled eggs. I guess you could've said that I had very limited qualities. I'd never been the greatest at anything, so I suppose I was just average. As average as people come, anyway.

But I suppose now that things had begun to happen again, I'd see less of him. It was a shame; while I could probably take up a job of some kind, I really didn't want to, in the same way that I never wanted to do my homework. But it always ended up getting done, so I guess that settled the debate for this, aswell.

We saddled up again, and this time, rode a little faster than before. When we arrived, I was left to find my room again. Instead, I decided to go for a walk. It wasn't quite dark yet, but the sun was only half-visible beyond the horizon. I walked first, to the room that was almost a gallery, where there were weapons and armour placed on racks for display. I really enjoyed the venetian set; it was just so pretty. Once I'd looked over the newest pieces added to the set, I moved on outside, around the back of huge villa, and found myself at the training ring, where two men were casually waving their swords around, chattering and laughing in the still air.

Eventually, they departed, sending an acknowledging nod in my direction on their way down the stairs. I knew it was probably a bad idea, because it would be deemed improper or otherwise, but I had to admit, I'd tried fencing. I'd lasted about a year and a half, and I'd never been good at it—same as everything—but I wanted a go. I climbed over the waist-high fencing and into the ring, my feet welcoming the still-warm earth when the air was cooling down. There wasn't anything lying around, save for a pair of wooden swords that looked as old as the town itself. I picked one up, and began to wave it around, practising my stances.

Everything was a little rusty, but I wasn't so worried because the last shreds of light were dissipating behind some distant mountains. It was beautiful in the same way the sunrise was beautiful that year I'd gone hiking for a school camp. Yes, everyone survived it, but I still think forcing a league of fourteen year-olds to hike ten kilometres in thirty degree heat was beyond cruel. By the end of the day, though, my pride at the accomplishment was plastered in my face. I began to play out a scene in my head, that I was a princess whose authority was being challenged. Of course, it being my imagination, the person I'd built up in my head was no match, and I ended it by standing with a foot on his chest and my long, beautifully crafted silver sword to his throat. I smiled as I stood there, in my imagination looking down at a coward, in real life probably looking crazy, or maybe pathetic as I had the wooden practise sword inches from the dirt. It caught me completely off-guard as Ezio spoke from behind me,

"Signora, the dirt will never submit to your threats." a smile plastered to his face; damn, one day I'd like to show him up, show him how cocky he shouldn't be. But I didn't see the chances of that being too high. Internally I calculated the chances of taking a swipe at him and actually hitting. Then again, the lump of tree I was holding could also sprout wings and morph into a flock of birds and fly away, leaving me defenseless.

"I need some form of glory. Chewing yours second-hand is never enough for a woman." and it occurred to me, was I old enough to be classed as a woman? I certainly didn't act like it. Where I'd spent time with Claudia, her attempts at teaching me to knit and sew, I'd discovered my manner was kind of violent, and jerky. Where she could easily craft a small embroidered piece of fabric, I'd create a clump of cotton thread mixed through a piece of linen. Where she'd made the beginnings of a scarf, mine somewhat resembled chain mail, without the chain, and made out of wool. I wasn't completely clueless, I was just very different to Claudia. She had delicate little hands, and a gentle manner in everything she did, whereas I was rough, coarse, and if there was any form of china in a two metre radius, my existence would surely break it. Sometimes things just happen, and no matter how much superglue you have on hand, they just can't be fixed, replaced, let alone explained.

Ezio gave me a kind smile, and drew his sword. The idea of having the end of his blade pointed at me made me nervous. I immediately took a defensive stance.

"Please, show me what you can do." he dared me. I can't say I never backed down from a dare—I did, and alot, too—but I was honestly curious about this. There was no way I could hit him though. I knew as much already.

He swung out at me, and I narrowly blocked him, his blade sinking deep into mine. For a small forever it seemed, he bluntly tried to strike, each time my reflexes taking over, and as cliché as it sounded, it felt as though I was becoming "one" with my blade; even such a pathetic excuse for a blade as this. He was toying with me, I could tell. We began to circle, turning around one another much like the waltz, his movements slowly getting faster. I made a particular effort to keep up, but I had a feeling this would be over soon. He slowly began to back me up against the fence line, and I made the mistake of making a lunge for his abdomen.

He deflected it away, and the wooden sword fell from my grip. I'd been too busy concentrating on his sword to notice his face, of which was covered with a look of the utmost concentration, much like my father did when he was playing spider solitaire. His lips, pressed into a thin line, loosened, and he looked young again, playful almost, which contrasted oddly with the weapon in his hand. As he pointed the blade toward me, I stepped back, inching myself closer to the fence. It didn't catch me by surprise when my lower back hit the stone, but what did surprise me was what I could feel resting up against my leg.

The other sword, the one I'd disregarded because my intention was to do this alone. A cold sweat broke out across the nape of my neck, and a short plan formed in my head. It was a little bit of a Sherlock Holmes moment, which almost made me smile. He got closer, until he was close enough for me to reach out and touch with my hand. If I'd wanted to, which I did want to, I could have outstretched my hands onto his chest, and run my hands over his muscled abdomen. I didn't think muscles existed like his, but I resisted the urge to try it and find out.

His blade was resting gently against one of my collarbones, just enough for me to feel the cold of the silver's edge. I put my hands down by my sides, and in the most inconspicuous fashion, grabbed the sword by my leg. It seemed like something he'd notice, but it didn't look like he had.

"I win." Ezio said, calm and mild, relaxing his sword and resheathing it. He didn't look the slightest bit flustered, or breathless. His stance was still guarded; he HAD to have known about the sword, and it proved true, as the moment I decided to flick it out, he caught it in his fist. My mouth dropped open, but I was only a small bit surprised. He laughed, assumingly at my expression, and plucked the sword from my fingertips. He was still standing close to me, and I could swear he was thinking the same thing I was. But he was the kind of person you'd look at from a distance, probably with a pair of binoculars, or two. He was a Calvin Klein model. Or a really unrealistic videogame hero. But I could swear he moved, ever so slightly, to move a foot forward, and then he moved another, until he was just close enough to—

Bright yellow light, everywhere. I could feel Ezio retreat backwards, and with him went the feeling of anticipation in my stomach. I looked around, blinking madly in an attempt to adapt to the sudden change in lighting. Ezio wasn't in the ring, he was leaning on the fenceline talking to a mercenary, this one didn't look familiar. I could faintly hear him saying "I'm sorry, Ser Ezio. Mario instructed me to better light the training ring." but Ezio didn't look upset. He looked as friendly as ever as he waved off the man's apologies, and turn to fix the lamp, even though he just got majorly cockblocked. The shadows drawn across the circle of dirt faded, and what I'd originally thought was a cousin of the sun coming to eat everyone on earth, faded to about small campfire brightness. The wonders of gas lamps.

I decided this would be the best time to leave, as I really didn't want to have an awkward conversation about what could've just happened. I turned to hoist one leg over the fence, ignoring the fact that Ezio was probably watching. And laughing. But when I quickly glanced around, he was nowhere to be seen. When I turned back to the fence, I almost had a heart attack. He was standing with either hand on the fence on either side of me, and I was awkwardly half-hobbling with one leg hooked over the side. With a taunting smile on his face, the kind where his lips just curved up at the sides, he rather suddenly grabbed my waist, and picked me up off the ground. Of course, being a girl who's used to staying firmly on the ground, I squealed for half a moment, until he set me on the ground again, on the same side of the fence as him.

**Sorry about this guys, but I'm gonna have to cut you off there. I'll be in France for the next three weeks, so I won't be updating until I get back! Have a good three weeks without me! ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

It was the kind of moment where your heart was in your stomach. It was only a moment, but it was enough for my cheeks to flush red, and when his hands left my waist, there was this horrid disappointment that I knew would probably stay with me a while. I remember clearly the thoughts that floated around in my head once we

The following morning as I ate breakfast, Ezio informed me that I'd be learning something extra today. I didn't take the slightest hint until I followed him to Mario, standing outside the villa, leaning against the training rink. I think I could've slapped him for the smug grin he had on his face in that moment, and I actually did later on, when Ezio was testing me on what he'd just taught me. Mario and Ezio sort of tag-teamed with teaching me things. Just little tricks, or how to parry quickly, or the quickest way to stop a man's heart.

I took to it with a certain level of unease, however it was like imagining a breakup compared to the real-life equivalent; there was the imagination, where you could take everything with a pinch of salt, and then there was real life, where one would want to break down, or cry, or scream, or all of the above at once. It wasn't something you could take lightly, to be honest.

While I was fighting Ezio, I saw the same face of pure concentration and almost distance, from what he was doing. Mario had to tell him to concentrate a few times, which was surprising, as he was so _good_. It was almost making me feel bad about myself, however i was reminded a fair few times that i'd just started to learn this. It wasn't quite fencing, but it was very close. We weren't aiming simply to hit them.

I was never any good, and besides, it was only a matter of days before Ezio disappeared again. Mario and Ezio made a collective decision that I'd stay behind to be trained in swordplay, while Ezio went out and used the skills they were teaching me, to fight for his life. Well, they say that I make it more dramatic than it is, but it was the truth. I don't think anyone but Claudia were sure he'd come home, but then again, she'd known him all her life. Surely she'd know.

Again, the days swelled on and stuck together, and for a few days at a time, I was just bored. I guess my life was kind of bland when he left. I couldn't wait until he-WHAT. Why was I think about him like that? What the hell's wrong with me? He was a friend, a comrade, pretty much family. Wait a minute, did I have a crush? Really? I mentally slapped myself when I considered that for a moment, I did. I couldn't afford to screw this up, and just by a tiny schoolyard crush. Goddamn it, Abs.

I'm not gonna lie, I tried damn hard to be easy to live with, and over time, it was a few weeks, I think I discovered that this was home. Yeah, once every couple months I'd curl up in my bed and cry and get out my phone and just play with the buttons, but time made this easier. The nights I did this grew farther and farther apart, little did I realize.

I got along well with Claudia; she was left in charge of running the estate, as apparently Mario was too busy to do all the little things, so he left it to her. At first she took it on begrudgingly, but I think over time she accept it, hell, maybe even enjoy it. But if she did enjoy it, she never admitted it to me. She often sent me out to deliver messages. I got to go to Florence, and all those little villages inbetween.

Of course, unless it was urgent, and it required no stopping, someone would accompany me. I'd forged friendships among the military ranks, and before I knew it, another year passed. I woke up, staring at the ceiling, and today, was a very special day. I'd done an amount of training to lead to this, to this day, where I can't say I'd gotten much thinner, but I'd gotten far more fit. My range of survival skills doubled, maybe even twice over. I'd changed immensely, where I was still born at the close of the 20th century and raised until I was 15 in Australia, the last couple years have shaped my existence as much as the last ten before that.

No one really put much investigation into how I'd appeared in the streets of Florence a good 500 years before my time, but really, they had no records, did they? No Deaths, Births and Marriages like on Collins. People must get lost and others found all the time, so surely my case wasn't too unique. The language barrier was, though. And that I was fairly educated, too. That was an oddity in itself. All this, and I'd never really considered about what's happening back at home, "down under".

Well, I was under the belief I'd been pulled out of my time slot and placed here. Why here, I don't know, but I didn't think it was reversible. Obviously this was something the scientists of the world would have thrived over in their struggle to figure it out. If I'd been here for just over two years, then surely people would have given up looking for me at home. I didn't know how to feel about that, but okay. I didn't dwell much.

I don't know how long I stayed in bed, but I did find myself pondering exactly how different this would have played out in my alternative life course, thing. Parties, alcohol, presents, the lot. But here, they didn't really care if I drank wine, so it lost alot of its appeal, naturally. I wasn't expecting alot, I viewed myself as a slight intruder on their lives. But I decided I'd be happy with whatever I got, no matter how little. Old habits, even the most materialistic, die hard.

When I finally found the dining room, there was a rather spectacular sight. Plate, upon plate upon plate of food. I froze in the door way, for half a moment thinking I'd got the wrong room, until Claudia encouraged me to move out of the way.

"Happy birthday my dear!" she said, pulling up a chair next to my normal place. Pulling my eyes away from the table, I looked at her disapprovingly. She had a smug grin from ear to ear, and it occurred to me that she was just like her brother. I took a seat, and began to look around. When I reached for a plate of fruit, she slapped my hands away.

"But you just said—"

"It's not for breakfast, stupid!" she laughed at me. With a rolling of my eyes I managed to swoop up a peach. Brunch it is.

"And which of you fine ladies would be using such vile language in my presence?" Shooting upright in my chair, I stole a glance at the doorway. I instantly gave up trying not to smile at the sight I saw; Ezio, in _normal_ clothes, for once, and smiling over at Claudia and I, with an expression I don't think I'd ever seen before. I'd forgotten what this feeling was like; it was like I was home again, having a sleepover with my three favourite girls, and all was well in the world. It was happiness.

I ended up pinching a few more pieces of fruit, and Claudia didn't seem to mind this time, because both of us were too enraptured by his stories. He told us all about San Gimignano, and the towers. He mentioned having to climb to the top of one, and by that point I was completely engrossed. I think there might have been a lot more he wasn't saying, assumedly because it was gory, but I really didn't mind him leaving out those details.

Mario, and a few of the mercenaries I'd grown fond of over the past while, entered the room in a line, just as Ezio finished up about a farmer who thought Ezio had stolen his horse. My stomach grumbled, and I'm pretty sure everyone in the room looked at me. Of course, my cheeks immediately got hot.

"Perhaps it's time to eat?" Mario said, quirking an eyebrow at me.

I think we were around the table for a fair few hours, and it was… fun. I got to watch Ezio play around with his sister, and everyone was laughing, and it was wonderful. That's the best way I could sum it up. I was chewing on what I thought was prosciutto when a boy, almost Ezio's height but very slight, appeared hesitantly in the doorway, requesting to see Mario immediately. I wasn't happy that he had to leave so soon, but I suppose the real world doesn't stop for birthdays.

The light started to turn a deep yellow colour as the sun touched the hills, and slowly, everyone said their goodbyes; I even received a couple bonne nuit's. Ezio and Claudia remained, and I helped clean up, regardless of how many times they asked me to sit down. Afterwards, I said goodnight to the two of them, and decided to go for a wander. It was still warm here, the air seemed to cling to my skin, even though it was very near complete darkness. The one thing I enjoyed about this place was the stars, how when you look on the horizon, there's no light. It's all a sheet of black, with white dots spread from east to west.

I think though, there was something that this hemisphere didn't offer me, and it was the Southern Cross. Whenever I was outside at night, no matter where I was, I could always see it, and now I couldn't. It was a loss. I think I was outside for maybe fifteen minutes, before everything began to cool, and I followed the pathway around past the statues to a back door, that was closer to my room. Well, it was closer to the stairs at least.

I was humming a song under my breath, until the sound of voices broke me out of my daze. I froze, before closely pressing myself to the wall.

"I think it's best that you leave tonight. The sooner you can get there, the better."

"But Uncle, what about Abigail? You said next time-"

"Do you honestly believe that's the best thing for her after her presence in Florence?"

"That was a year ago; she's better now, I can tell. The nightmares are getting more infrequent." Unsettling images were brought to mind, and I decided to buck up and just walk past. This obviously wasn't a conversation I was meant to be hearing.

"I just think she can handle it. And I can help. I was the same age when..." he trailed off.

"Do what you believe is best. Only, look after her."

And at that moment, I clenched my hands into fists and walked past, cringing because I knew they would have noticed me. I climbed the staircase, only reaching the top stair before Ezio stopped me. He invited me to come with him, right at this very second, on a trip to San Gimignano. Apparently there were things he needed to do... And he'd wanted to take me with him for my birthday. Not that it was a great present exactly, but at that moment, I would have been happy to do almost anything that involved getting out of town. It wasn't quite desperation, per se, but I was interested, and willing. With a weary smile, I agreed.

I didn't really have all too much to pack, and Ezio had already packed everything he needed, so we set off fairly quickly. I got to ride my own horse, one I may aswell have adopted, that was utterly gorgeous when I was riding her, but like all horses, a tiny bit scary when you stood beside them. We rode fairly quickly, stopping only once for a midnight snack. The moon cast a beautiful white haze on the countryside as we rode through it, and now that the moon was almost in the center of the sky, I could see almost as well as during the day, save for the occasional really dark shadow.

We arrived there well before sunrise, and oh my god, even at night, the city was gorgeous. There were only a few gas lamps turned on inside the city, but I could clearly see the outlines of the towers against the sky. We dismounted and Ezio led me through a winding blur of streets, myself basically dead on my feet, but Ezio was still alert, and was close to dragging me along, as it was. I barely registered when we pulled up at a doorway, and a thin line of yellow light splashed out onto the paved road. Ezio spoke a few hushed words, probably in an attempt to avoid breaking the quiet of the night, and we were granted access. Until I stepped inside, I hadn't even noticed how cold I was; my fingers could barely move.

Inside, there were a few women walking around, lounging on rich furniture, and none of them wearing a dress that covered every aspect of their body. There was a thin line between cleavage and _cleavage_, that I wasn't sure these women were aware of. The furniture was lush, in rich shades of blue, red, and purple. But particularly red. I saw them eying Ezio; as if it wasn't obvious, and a small pang of jealousy nestled itself a new home inside me.

But Ezio didn't seem to notice. It was unusual for me to see him like this; back in Florence, when he wasn't dead-set focused on his 'work', he was happy with checking out the local ladies, maybe chatting up a couple and disappearing for the night. I always forced myself not to care; it was a stupid thing to care about, anyway. But now, he was different. He led me up a set of stairs, holding on to my arm so tight I thought he was expecting me to fall over. And I almost did, twice.

He led me through a long corridor, with so many doors I quickly lost count, until we reached a door at the very far end. Opening the door, I had to lean against the door frame, scared my legs would give out as it was. I barely registered what the room looked like, only that where was a big, comfortable-looking bed in the centre of the room. It was a fight in itself just to get over to the bed, but I can't remember if I made it there or not.


	8. Chapter 8

**Awkward, I actually forgot to put an author's note in for last week, but I'm back! It was incredible, I'll tell you that! Hope you guys don't mind the short break I took, but now it's back to usual! (;**

In the morning, or well, when I woke up, the first thing that struck me was how stiffly sore I felt. I had a wonderful, dreamless sleep, but now I had the feeling I might have overslept considerably. Opening my eyes, I had the chance to take in my surroundings; I found only a few elements of furniture, and all of them made for a very posh look. A chest, presumably for clothes. A desk by the window, bright yellow light pouring in at an angle that made me think it was around midday. A vanity sporting a huge mirror, with a matching chair. In fact, everything in the room was of a set, and it took me a moment to put two and two together. The women last night. The dozens of rooms. Posh furniture. But what the hell is with the vanity mirror? Oh god, there was some majorly kinky shit going on here.

I fell out of bed, and made an effort to crawl as far away from the bed as possible, hopelessly tangling myself even further into the many blankets. Without looking up, I travelled across the room, and was informed of the vanity's whereabouts when it came into contact with my head. Hard. I yelped and sprang back, managing to pull myself to my feet, and dropping the last of the entangled blankets.

Taking one look at myself in the mirror, I cringed. I didn't bring a hairbrush, and began to dig around in each of the drawers. All of them were either locked or empty, both states in which they were useless to me. I made a special effort not to rifle through the chest, as I really didn't want to know what was in there. I finally gave up my search, and settled with combing my fingers through my hair. Headed for the door, I watched the doorknob turn just a fraction, before a loud knock, one I recognized, sounded. I reached for the doorknob and at the same time as I did, Ezio opened the door, a small plate in one hand.

My stomach didn't rumble, as comical as that would've been, but I settled for the sharp pain of an empty stomach that encroached on me as I let him in. He didn't seem all too pained about being in a girl's room, but I suspect he'd probably spent alot of time in many of them in the past.

"Good sleep?" he asked, and I began to launch into a tirade about how unsanitary it was for me to be sleeping in this bed, however I came up short, as I didn't know the word for "sex" in italian; in fact, there were a fair few points where I wasn't entirely sure of the word. Though, I did an awesome job at explaining it. He laughed like it was nothing, and of course, that made me more irate. I swallowed the food quickly, and he informed me of what was going to happen that night. I wasn't entirely sure of my role, but there had to be something fairly awesome to do while he was off killing people.

He took me out after that. I was allowed to borrow a dress from the room, but there was no way I saw that happening. I was shown the centre of town, and the towers, which were incredible during the day. Ezio received word from a scrawny-looking guy, one of the cities' thieves, that Jacopo De Pazzi would be in the city's centre at sundown, and so the remainder of the day was planned around it. I would have liked to climbed the towers, but I think Ezio didn't want me getting into trouble, and I wasn't all too inclined to either.

We returned to the brothel-my fear confirmed-before sundown. I was given strict instructions, and planned accordingly, but the wait for Ezio's movements, was exhausting. It was well after sundown before I was signalled to follow him, and at that, there weren't any lights on the rooves. I had travelled a fair distance before reaching one gap I underestimated, and struggled to get back on top of the roof in time to keep up.

I ran into a few guards, I didn't have time to count how many but I knew that I couldn't outrun them. I mean, I don't think I ended up travelling more than two kilometres in total, but I realized very quickly that I needed them off my tail. I could see ahead I was coming up to the walls of the city, and for Ezio on the ground, it was the gateway out. And as I looked down at my feet, I realized two things.

Firstly, the man Ezio was following, looking rather spangly in a blue robe-another time, i would have referred to it as a dress, and i knew i had grown far from where i'd began-could see me. For some strange reason, the hat the man wore on his head reminded me of a sock. I didn't know his name, but I could see clearly with only a single glance that he could see me, too. And he was staring.

Secondly, i wouldn't make the next jump. As the rooves quickly grew short beneath me, I struggled to make myself completely stop on the edge. I swallowed, and took a step back from the edge, seeing all the way down to the ground. It was a fair way down. Turning back to the guards, I already knew they'd caught up with me. I was correct in assuming there were three. Only one of them looked like he could keep going, and immediately I labelled him as the primary target. With my back to the ledge, I drew my weapon. All three of them followed suit, and closed in around me.

Behind my ears I could both hear and feel my heart thumping away, and I knew that eventually I would have to give in. I'd kill them, or they'd kill me. I don't know how, but I'd somehow given them a reason to, somewhere along the way, and I really wasn't in the mood for getting dead. The man closest to me swung out, which I parried and met with my own offense.

One thing I wasn't fantastic at, was keeping the ledge in the back of my mind like it was at the back of my feet, and when I very nearly fell off, it took sheer willpower to use my left leg to hoist myself up, narrowly missing a swing to my right. I moved away from the edge, discovering that there was no way I was going to hit any of these guys; they were faster, stronger, taller, better trained, and had been doing this for years. I kept all my senses peeled, waiting for one of them to make a move, and when my primary target finally did, I was ready.

He slashed out, clean and efficiently, aiming for my torso, however I quickly tried to block. I wasn't quick enough to note that he feigned left, and diverted his blade down, and under my defenses, leaving a nasty gash over my right triceps. From behind me, I heard the sound of a blade whipping through the air, and quickly turned to dodge. Well, I attempted to.

Pain tore through me, and I could feel a tiny blade, acutely bigger than a pen lid, nest itself in the soft spot between my collar bone and neck. My first reaction was to drop my sword, and it clattered to my feet. I had tears stinging my eyes. All there was was pain, and I held no sense of the world. A feint whistle told me that the three guards-I hated calling them that, as they were basically police officers-were probably calling for backup. My legs gave out, and my knees hit the ground hard, followed by my front.

I fought hard to push myself onto my back, which eased some of the pain. And then I just lay there gasping. I could barely see, and it took me forever to bring into focus a tower, one of the smaller ones, staring down at me dangerously. The faint glow of gas lights cast a yellow hue onto the bricks, making them look painted moreso than anything else. I didn't think I would die from this, but when I re-evaluated the situation, I didn't bother thinking. I could see the stars.

Yes, it was just me, and this tower, and the stars. It was almost dreamlike, happy even, until a figure blotted out the moon. This wasn't how it was supposed to be, I was supposed to be alone with the stars. I'd momentarily decided I'd be happy to die alone with the stars, but this figure had woken me up. The world was no longer a haze, and the adrenaline coursing through my veins informed every cell of my being that he was a threat.

With a strength I didn't think I had, I lifted myself off the ground, limb by limb. I scrambled for my blade, momentarily startled by the blood. The soft breeze made my skin burn cold. The dark figure wasn't all too clear, as there wasn't much of a source of light up here, I could barely tell where his head was. It reminded me of Ezio, because his silhouette often caused me to get confused between where his head and body met, but this wasn't him. Shorter, but probably just as filled out. I raised my blade with my left hand, as I could barely move my right.

"Miss, are you alright?"

I scrutinized him for every possible sign of being a friendly, and yet something in my mind had it drilled in that I needed to defend myself. I stepped closer to the ledge, confident I wouldn't nearly fall off this time, even though my head ached. And then I looked to the ground; three bodies, with red stains pooling around their forms. It made bile rise up in my throat, but I relaxed, sort of, because I knew that I no longer had three dangerous men out to get me.

My right arm twinged, and I made a split-second decision that would fucking suck later, little did I know. I resheathed my sword awkwardly with the wrong hand, and reached over for the knife hilt embedded in my skin. I didn't touch it, or take it little-by-little, instead I just grabbed the hilt and pulled. I don't think I could have gotten much louder, I might aswell have had a megaphone, but I did accomplish one thing. And in my hand, I held a very familiar-looking knife, coated in my still-warm blood.

I couldn't tell if the pain had gotten worse or not, only that it didn't get better. The man, I apologized to, and discovered he was a thief of the city, and had been paid to come after me to make sure I was alright. His name was Domenico. I saved him the sound of my wry comments, as he was only the messenger. My thoughts quickly turned to Ezio; he can't have just left me here. He must have been held up. My thoughts turned grim.

"Do you know where the Antico Teatro Romano is?" His face lit up, I assume with recognition. He nodded, and began to lead me to a ladder. I had an incredible amount of trouble getting down the ladder, but I managed. The lights were a bright change of scenery, and pedestrians were far more scarce at this time of night. The small knife was hot in my hand.

I could see the gates, and as I ran towards them in a hobble-like fashion, I noticed the guards, looking very uninjured, unlike myself. We reached a set of stairs that I didn't know were there until we were practically on top of them, and I nearly lost my footing. My collarbone was throbbing and my head ached, and I was getting a tiny bit dizzy. I halted Domenico just as the eyes of the guards crept up to us. I wasn't entirely sure about how he would fare, but I knew I wouldn't last long; not with a gaping hole in my shoulder.

We needed to be more careful. There was a small amount of scaffolding, but I couldn't see a ladder I could use. I pointed to it, and Domenico began to nonchalantly walk off to a path that lead to the right, passing the scaffolding in the process, all the while looping my arm through his, making us look somewhat inconspicuous. I clenched my jaw, just waiting for them to pull us up. We'd probably get held up simply because I was bleeding-I could feel the sticky blood oozing from my neck, which completely out-did the gash on my arm-and he's a thief. I didn't expect that to hold up well with the guards.

We got to the scaffolding without incident, and from there, things got a bit tricky. The scaffolding was comprised of two levels, the first close to the ground, and the second pretty much level with the wall. The gap between them, I wouldn't have been able to bridge, even on a good day when I didn't have a gimpy fin. I looked at Domenico and he looked at me, both of us suddenly perplexed.

As soon as I found a wall to lean on, an idea made him perk his head up like a bird who just had bread thrown at it. He told me where the Antico Teatro-Ancient Roman Theatre, in english- was, and helped me right myself, before heading off in the direction of the gate. I almost guessed what he was going to do, and by sheer force of willpower, I followed about fifty metres behind him, as he got the attention of the nearby guard, and left, four of them trailing after him.

I saw my opportunity and took it, scrambling to get out the gates as quickly as possible. Three metres from the gate, I heard a voice, which made me freeze, and I almost had to leap to move behind a huge wooden structure in time. A man, probably middle aged, stalked through in a dark cloak reminiscent of the Sith Lord more than anything else. He sounded calm, and simply stalked onward into the city, guards trailing at his feet. When he moved far enough away, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.


	9. Chapter 9

I followed the path around as instructed, until I reached the edge of a set of ruins. A low-pitched moaning was barely audible, and I could hear the clash of metal. I dashed down the stairs, almost tripping over my own feet in the process, and ran into a wall. I turned a corner, and there he was, fighting a man in a large golden suit of armor, seemingly without ease.

I took a moment to grasp my surroundings, and made a conscious effort not to get his attention just yet. If he knew I was here, then that might mean everyone else did, and I couldn't afford that. I could feel it in my legs that if I fell over again, I don't think I was getting up again. I _had_ to sit down.

Well for starters, the theatre itself was gorgeous. There was a main corridor which, when I followed around it, had several entrances to the audience seating, which in turn led down to the stage. I could see the stage clearly from any one of these entrances. As I travelled down the far end, i could hear speaking. Just quietly, barely audible. So loud, I probably would have shrugged it off as a trick of the mind, however this time, I knew better.

A glance down at the stage told me what I needed to know; Ezio was finished, and he was hovering over one man who looked dangerously close to death. I began to make my way down the stairs, trying to be quiet, though I wasn't entirely sure I was doing too well. At about half way down, I heard Ezio's blade flick out, and he uttered a few words I wasn't quite sure was Italien. It sounded latin, of all things. _Requiscat en pace_. It sounded like rest in peace, only jazzed up a bit.

Holding the knife in the palm of my hand, I raised my arm and aimed, knowing very well I'd miss. I tensed, and threw it, and it hit him, hilt first on the knee. I don't know what was running through his mind just then, but he looked a mix of surprised and relieved. He picked up the blade, eyes still on me, and began to walk over. My legs on the other hand, chose that moment to crumble, and I ended up on the ground.

I felt horrible, but when he picked me up, I had a fit altogether. I _refused_ to be carried around like a damsel in distress! I am capable of standing on my own two feet, and made sure he knew it. We only made it as far as the corridor that connected the theatre to the exit, where there was more cover, and he lent me gently against the wall.

With a single glance at my neck wound, he murmured apology after apology. I couldn't hear most of it, the edges of my vision were turning dark. I don't know whether I managed to tell him or not that we had to get back, but he got the message, and we-me stumbling, with Ezio's hands just grazing my arms-departed. The guards still hadn't returned to their post by the gate, which made passage easier. The closer we got, the more and more sleep sounded incredible. And it was so, so cold.

I almost fell, and at that point I knew I may aswell not be conscious, for all the good it was doing. I didn't argue when he picked me up, my head was in the clouds. I could hear his heartbeat, loud, and uneven against my own. I was slipping; I knew I was meant to stay awake, but something told me that it'd be alright. I'd be fine. The world was getting dark, and everything was just a hum. I closed my eyes-

"Stay awake, my dear. You must stay awake." I jolted, realizing I was still in his arms, all of me in pain, my right arm almost completely down for the count. It was suddenly so bright, and we had reached a door. I knew this place. I closed my eyes for only a few moments, and when I opened them again, I could feel his arms slide out from under me. I tried to roll over, but I whimpered as my arm twinged. It was so incredibly hot in here.

For most of the night, my eyes were closed, but constantly, whenever I tried to sleep, there were hands on my forehead, or a wet cloth on my neck. At one point, there was a wretched burning, and no matter what I did, it was there, and I couldn't stop it. It felt like a lifetime before it faded. I'd completely forgotten about the gash on my arm, I just kept falling in and out of consciousness. I just wanted sleep.

When morning came, I may aswell have been in a coma. It wasn't just because I was in pain-and goddamn, how do they live without panadol?-but I was upset. I was so tired, and I'd spent my time, a year of my time, training for something I was horrible at. I was in bed, my face turned to the window. Thick, rich red curtains covered the edges, and there was only a thin golden line that told me it was day. Dust mites floated through the air. The gold... it was pretty. Maybe even beautiful.

I heard the door creak open, but I didn't bother to turn my head. I simply closed my eyes, focusing on the sound of his footsteps as they made their way around to the side of the bed. Oh god, I so badly wanted to smile. Every part of me was fighting not to smile, but just like when I was lying to my parents, I eventually grinned, and instantly hated myself for it.

I opened my eyes, and moved to sit up, my right shoulder ginger. I really just wanted to cry; spending a long time with moderated emotions really did take it's toll, and I don't know about anyone else, but sometimes it just fixes things. I really didn't want to, though. I wasn't happy that I ended up being carried back, beaten and bloody. Or maybe I just didn't like that I barely lasted ten minutes in a fight. So maybe I wasn't too sure.

"I'm sorry." he said, regarding the closed wound on my neck. _That _explains the burning sensation. I smiled at him weakly.

"Don't be." And then there was silence. I fiddled with my fingers, playing with a loose thread from the blanket. When I looked over at me, he was by the window, staring.

"What happens next?" I looked over at him. In his hand, he raised a small scroll, no bigger than my forearm.

Whenever I think of the Renaissance, my mind instantly snapped to Leonardo Da Vinci. He was the reason I visited the Louvre in 2008. He was the reason I adored Italy, food aside. At first meeting, I thought he was a little bit... underwhelming. But then I really got the chance to meet him. Not his reputation, but _him_. And he was gorgeous. I always keep in mind the smile on his face, and how he always runs to greet you as soon as you're in sight. He would have made an incredible brother in another lifetime.

It was a long ride, and I ended up sharing a horse with Ezio, so I could sleep on the way. I didn't really understand how that was possible at the time, but it was really quite similar to sleeping on an airplane, only slightly more uncomfortable. My mind travelled alot, even to Domenico at one point. I wondered if Ezio had just hired him for the night without thought or worry of what would happen after. Maybe last night with the guards didn't go so well. I didn't dwell on him too much.

I was asleep when we arrived at the gates of Florence, and waking up, I felt completely jetlagged, of all things. I could feel Ezio's breath in my ear as he woke me up, and I knew I had some serious walking off to do about these cramps. Apparently Ezio had to talk to someone after his latest kill. Of course, more secret meetings where I couldn't be involved. I was given options, and though I would have liked to come see what's kicking in the world of Ezio's-secret-meetings-he-always-disappears-for, I decided against it, and simply decided to sit and wait at the stables.

He set off pretty much immediately, though he did seem a little reluctant to leave me here on my own. Pulling down my clothed shoulder, I tried to take a look at the wound, but only succeeded in looking like a little bit of an idiot. My cut began to get annoying, and I picked at it incessantly. It occurred to me only now that we left a horse behind in San Gimignano. Oops.

I ended up sprawled across some hay, when I heard the funniest of sounds. A caravan-everyone else and I differred greatly on the meaning of caravan-began to roll out, and just like that, something snapped, horribly loudly. I could hear cursing, alot at that, but that wasn't what made me jolt upright. I looked around for the source of the noise, and found my target. I wasn't stealthy or anything, because when I was stealthy, I knew I sucked, so I pretty much just ran straight toward him.

"LEONAR DO!" I yelled, running directly into him. I gave him a hug, but he didn't seem to respond for half a second, before gladly welcoming me back. When I pulled back, he suddenly turned slightly embarrassed, and was doing the child-like thing where you stare at the ground and pretend you have nothing to say. It took me a moment to register, that he had a caravan, full of _everything_. But why would he be leaving? Where was there to go that was even more at centre of the Renaissance than Florence?

He smiled at me apologetically, and disappeared around the side of the caravan, leaving me to think for a moment while he did a little more cussing and swearing. I moved over and leant on the side of the caravan, studying what he was doing. There was something wrong with the wheel, that I could even see without close inspection, and Leonardo's short arm couldn't quite get to it. I almost jumped out of my skin completely when Ezio rocked up behind me.

"What seems to be the problem, Leonardo?"

"I know how to fix it, but I haven't got the strength to lift it high enough." And sure as hell, Ezio crawled down underneath the caravan, and lifted with one hand. Using the null factor law, it meant either he was really strong, or the caravan was damn light. I got curious as to which.

A few seconds passed, and I was standing on edge, just waiting for it to collapse on top of him, or for Ezio to simply buckle under the weight. And then Leonardo declared it finished, and the caravan resumed it's original stance. I was tempted to ask, but I knew we wouldn't.

But then I was instructed to climb aboard. Ezio must've known I'd go for the reins, because I'd awkwardly climbed on with only one arm, he already had them, and was pointing at the caravan itself.

"Oh hell no. If you think that there's even the slightest chance of that happening..." but his facial expression told me exactly that. I tried to make as much noise as possible as I made my way in. Inside, it was crampt and there was little room. On the other end of the cabin was a huge wooden frame, that was reminiscent of a bat; his flying machine that he used to keep in the corner of his workshop for show. It occurred to me then that I never got to see the final batman movie before I disappeared. My heart sank as I thought about it.

And we were off. I was hugely grumpy the entire first leg, only to Ezio of course. Leonardo asked me what happened to my arm, and I told him to go ask Ezio, because he'd know exactly what happened. I put alot more venom in my words than I would've liked, but Ezio was tough. He could handle it. I can't remember what I said, but suddenly Ezio was tense and Leonardo was climbing in beside me. It took me a moment to realize that it wasn't me who said anything. There were people following us, and they really did not look friendly.

Just as Leonardo went to close the hatch on the top of the caravan, we hit a hard turn, and bashed heads. When I went to look out the back of the caravan, I saw one horseman get pretty close to the edge, and then he disappeared altogether. He was on the roof.

"Ezio..." I trailed off.

"I know, _bella_, I know!" he said, making another sharp turn. I poked my head out, and took a look around. Surely enough, I was right about the guy on the roof, but he was damn surprised to have me there. Still, he continued on his course, struggling to make his way up the roof of the caravan as it jerked left and right. I made a good decision, and awkwardly leant over toward Ezio, my hand quickly disappearing around his waist.

"What the hell are you doing!" the caravan jolted, and I smiled at the thought of catching him by surprise.

"Don't get excited now." My smile turned smug, and I turned to face the guard again, three small blades about the length of a chapstick in my hand. Okay, I'd never tried this before, but there was no time like the present. Using my right arm, careful not to stretch the skin around my shoulder, I flicked out the first knife, and my eyes went wide. The guard's body crumpled and fell away from the wooden surface. I'd just killed someone. Oh god.


	10. Chapter 10

**Heh, I'm really happy that you guys like this. :3. Thankyou for everything! 333**

I nearly dropped the two other knives; my fists clenched and unclenched.

"Ezio... did you see that?" Leonardo yelled.

"Do I look like I'm in a position to sit back and commentate?" Jesus, he was wry. We made another sharp turn, which caught me by surprise, and I almost completely fell off the caravan, head first. My fingers were grating painfully into the wooden slats, my shoulder protesting, and I had to grit my teeth with the force of the momentum; I was only staying on by one foot hooked under the edge of the hatch.

"A little help!" I yelled, and a large hand on my calf hoisted me back into the mouth of the hatch.

"Get back in and stay there!" he yelled at me. Instead, I managed to find one of the knives I'd taken from Ezio earlier. A hand reached up from inside the caravan to hand me the other. Hooking my feet under the hatch so I wouldn't go flying anywhere, I took aim at the closest guard to the caravan, and threw one of the blades. It missed him by an inch, but it hit his horse. I winced.

"Abigail..." Ezio trailed off.

"Yeah?"

"Abigail!"

"_What_!" I all but screamed at him. We turned another sharp corner, and I had to grab onto Ezio's shoulder to keep myself steady. That's when I saw it; a bridge, wooden, and on it, people—more guards—with something bright and distinctly orange slowly spreading. I cursed, and climbed down to the seat beside Ezio. I had to clutch to the side of the caravan for balance; there was nothing else holding me there.

"Get back in, Abigail." he told me; I wouldn't have a bar of it.

"I'm better off helping you out here. You know-"

"Abigail," his voice wasn't sharp, but there was something there. Something slightly more intense. "Once we're over the bridge, okay, but please just listen to me and get inside the cabin with Leonardo." He managed a few seconds of eye contact in there, but when he turned back to the road, we swerved again, and I decided to obey. I still had the last knife in my hand.

It was easy to climb back inside the caravan, and I noticed on the way a number of arrows with their heads embedded in the surface of the wooden exterior. Leonardo helped me in, and with how little space we had, I ended up pressed against him, awkwardly trying not to move too much. It occurred to me that he didn't look too shaken up over what was happening outside. I didn't think to ask.

We made it over the bridge, and for a few short minutes, the number of people trying to kill us eased up. I stuck my head out, and did a quick assessment of the carriage. There wasn't a guarantee it would survive much longer. I tried to climb out, but just as my waist levelled with the hatch, we swerved again, and the wood hit my side excruciatingly hard. The swerving was really starting to piss me off.

When we finally spotted the edge of a town, I jumped out completely and sat beside Ezio.

"Do you know how to steer, by any chance?" he asked me, eyes not moving from the road.

"Not exactly..."

"Pull on the left to go left, and the right to go right." he said, handing them to me. Short and sweet; I like it. We reached the town, and I could see just at the edge of it, a bridge.

"I'm going to distract them."

"Are you fucking crazy?" Though admittedly, I said that one last sentence entirely in English; he didn't have a clue. He gave me a one-eyebrow look and turned to jump, just as we began to slow down. A final thought, detrimental as it was, crossed my mind.

"_I DON'T KNOW HOW TO STOP_!" I screamed at him, but he was already on the ground. I didn't see how he landed, but it looked like a barrel roll.

"Pull both." Leonardo appeared beside me. Something about having him around made things better. We slowed down considerably as we went over the bridge, and by the time we hit town, we were at a walking pace.

I didn't know that to head to Venice, we were only crossing the leg of Italy and then taking a boat, but then I realized that I wasn't entirely sure where Venice was. And I didn't have my phone to quickly google it on. Leonardo seemed to know where he was going, and I simply handed over the reins.

We met Ezio at the docks, but waiting for him was tedious. I went for a walk, bought and ate some food, and even picked up some sailor slang. One man that I assumed to be part of the crew on board thought I was particularly interesting. When Ezio did rock up, we ran into a bit of a problem. I'd been able to get by as a kind of assistant of Leonardo's, however Ezio wasn't quite there. We were at a loss of ways fix the situation, and it was growing late. About twenty minutes before the ship was due to depart, a woman began calling for help.

Ezio, being just that kind of guy, stole a nearby boat—called a gondola in this era—and paddled over to the island she somehow magically got stranded at, to save her. From where I was, I could see them exchange a few words, and then Ezio was paddling back, seemingly effortlessly, mind you, and then helped her to the shore. I hadn't even noticed how dangerously bitter my mood was growing.

What did catch me by surprise, was how she walked over to the man who wouldn't let Ezio on board, presumably the captain, and began outright screaming at him. And I mean _screaming_, as in she sounded like a freaking banshee. And he looked positively _terrified_, like she was a huge spider who'd just found its way onto his favourite chair. Her rich purple dress kind of fitted with the theme, the whole high-collar thing. I decided I'd call her spider-lady. Don't judge me; old habits die hard.

She finished her piece, and already the man was grovelling at her feet. We hopped aboard, and maybe five minutes later and after a fair bit of flirting, we were off, my mood as sour as ever. Once the sight of land disappeared behind us, the sky turned grey, and the water mirrored the sky. The only clue that reminded me that we weren't floating in a cloud or something was the constant lapping of water against the bow of the ship. Well, it was bigger than a boat, smaller than a ship. Kind of an inbetweenie.

The day dragged on, and when I asked, we still had a couple hours to go before we got to Venice. I hadn't said a word to Ezio, and to be honest, it looked like he didn't have anything to say to me. I spent alot of time at this certain spot on the deck that was a little less popular than anywhere else, and slowly and quietly, the day dragged on.

Everyone seemed to prefer their rooms over an overcast day; I didn't blame them. But the quiet was nice, and different. I don't know how cliché it was to say, but it gave me freedom. I actually found myself crying after about ten minutes; I was curled up, right on the edge of the deck, and I could see my reflection, a muddled blur of pale colours against grey. I was mumbling words I would've told my mum, if I ever got a chance to talk to her again. I didn't believe I would, but I thought, for the time being, I could live with this.

I poured it out; I was never so incredibly close to her as my words would have suggested, but whenever things got bad-and I really thought they were right now-i would pour it all out. I tried to imagine that she was here, listening, all brown curls and warm, open arms. Instead, the wind made my bottom lip quiver, and my nose was running from the cold. I couldn't feel my fingers. Italian weather was as bad as Melbourne weather; a matter of days ago, it was warm enough for shorts, not that i could really wear them here, at all.

It did get to the point where I finally gave up trying to win out against the cold, and made my way inside. I didn't run into anyone, luckily, and made my way to my room. I was supposed to share with Leonardo, being his assistant and all, but he felt that I needed a little privacy. It wasn't like we were on a cruise, so I didn't quite understand the need for rooms until I actually got to mine.

It wasn't really a "room" per se, but more like a closet for all our things, and a bed. I'd decided to leave my sword behind, and it sat there, shining on the bed from the many times I'd cleaned it. The first time I killed a person, it took me a month to just pick up a blade again. The images stay with you forever, and for me, it's never got easier. I moved to sit by my bed and picked up the blade, sitting it gently in my lap. I stared at it for a long while, my head lost in thought.

I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep until I jostled awake to the sounds of shouting; we must have arrived. I began to gather my things in a rush, and was taken aback when I discovered a thin red line across my palm. I teared up, and momentarily gritted my teeth at the harsh stinging. I'd lived through worse; my neck wasn't a mortal wound or anything, but it twinged a fair bit when I rubbed it wrong. Note to self, never sleep with a sword. I found a rag lying around, and awkwardly tied it around my hand; I needed to be able to use it.

Out on deck, I could see Leonardo and Ezio among the crowd of onlookers, and I hurried to join them. I couldn't see very well over either of their massive frames, so they let me squeeze in-between them, and that's when I saw Venice. In movies, and games, there is only so little that can be done justice, and this was not one of them. I suppose, like all places, it had an element of unreality to it, like I was entering some crazy dream sequence that l didn't want to escape. However, past that, it was beyond everything I'd dreamed.

The buildings were incredible, and as we docked, I discovered how very little I'd brought with me. Leonardo ended up putting a couple of his things in my room for the boat ride. I stepped off the boat, and onto the shore, and it failed to sink in. I was really here. Where I'd sat in my classes at school and dreamed about this, about travelling through all of Europe, I was now able to cross one thing off the list. I began to wander, take a little look around, all the while keeping the boat in sight.

The few other passengers that had been on the boat with us dispersed quickly, and by the time Leonardo was calling my name, I was in a positively incredible mood. Leonardo had a huge pile of things, compared to Ezio and I who barely had half a bag of things between us. Leonardo looked as positively enthralled as I felt, and when we were offered a tour of Venice, I answered yes before Leonardo had the chance to think.

So we walked off, following this man who really seemed to be hamming it up a bit. We walked through a marketplace, and I had to struggle not to pay attention while a group of guards picked on a fish merchant. I kept my head low as we passed through there, and Leonardo paused to look at a small wooden statue thing. I'd seen one before; they had them everywhere in the modern world, but here, Leonardo looked at it with such a look of pure adoration that I realized I'd have to buy one for him. Definitely.

We did a few more twists and turns that I didn't bother to remember, until we made our way to a door. The door was set inside the wall of a large house, assumedly Leonardo's new workshop, and I wondered what it would look like from the inside. Apparently everything that had been sent ahead was already unpacked, and I could simply tell how anxious he was to get inside. Just as Leonardo was about to invite us inside, Ezio informed us that he had "business" to attend to.

Initially, I assumed I'd be going with him, but he told me purposely to stay put with Leonardo. He just always knew exactly how to piss me off, because I did _not_ want to stay put right now. He figured as much and apologized, and I asked him if I could talk with him. Leonardo seemed unconcerned about this, as though Ezio and I fighting was of no surprise to him. I just hoped we hadn't wrecked his good mood.

We moved away from the doorway that Leonardo left open, and under a rooved area of the path, speaking dangerously rashly, and in harsh tones. I was so angry.

"Why are you being so difficult? You've never cared before!" he growled.

"Because now I can take care of myself, I don't need you to baby me anymore. I can do this."

"Oh, like you nearly died in San Gimignano? You'd really Iike to have a repeat of that?"

"Last time I checked, _you_ put that knife in my neck. I was doing just fine without you!" He flinched, and grew silent. I hadn't noticed he'd backed me up against the wall until the cold within the stone began to seep through my clothes. I was just so angry. Using both my hands, I shoved him away. He went far enough for me to escape, and I gladly took the opportunity, however he grabbed me back by the hand, the one I'd tied in a rag, and tugged me back until I was against the wall. He removed the rag and gave me a questioning look. I really didn't care right now; I pulled my hand back, out of his grip.

His gaze was intense, I could barely look him in the eye, and when I finally did, I noticed how incredibly close he was to me. I could feel his breath on my face, and the way he smelled, it was a typical cute boy kind of smell. Like Lynx; everyone at home would wear it. He had both his hands on my shoulders, keeping me rooted to the floor where I stood. I could feel just the ever-so-slight pressure of his robes brushing against my body.

He was more than a head taller than me, looking down at me, and for a moment, I couldn't see him. I played out a dozen scenarios in my head, and there was a voice, an extremely prominent voice, that told me to kiss him. I made the decision, and just as I was stretching to stand on the balls of my feet, I was snapped back to reality by a group of people who'd just turned the corner. Ezio immediately noticed my change in posture and released me, and the only thing that told me that the last fifteen seconds were real, was my heartbeat, staccato, playing in my ears.


	11. Chapter 11

**I can't thank you guys enough for the reviews. I'm glad everyone likes it so much. :3**

I didn't get anything else from him, not even a goodbye, but he stalked off around a corner, leaving me standing there, not knowing how to feel. I really didn't know myself. Immediately, I turned to go join Leonardo, but then an idea caught me before I'd even taken two steps. I looked around for a ladder, and took off. Venice was incredible from the rooftops. I could see so much, and for miles around. I remembered the Traboules in Lyon, back when I went to France during my time, and how incredible it would have been to run across those rooves.

I did a small circuit around the places I knew, keeping in mind guards, and went to certain lengths to avoid them. I decided to travel a little further, and when I did, I found a huge building that looked familiar. This was near where that fish merchant guy was bullied. I think. I hit the streets, and my guess was confirmed. I went for a pleasant walk through the marketplace, I had the time to actually look at things. I wish I'd brought coins with me; that doll was still there. I remember owning one as a child, and memories flooded back. I went over and asked the woman if she could hold it for me, as I'd forgotten my money. She didn't seem to mind.

I decided to walk on home, or well, to Leonardo's, I wasn't entirely sure where home was anymore, but I was now calm and content and feeling infinitely better. I turned a few corners, and ended up along a main road. I could see the river—I wasn't sure if it was a river or just a bigger canal—and amongst the dozens of people going about their days, there were loud gasps of surprise. Oh god, Ezio was probably tearing the place down. He liked to do shit like that.

But when the gasps reached me, the dozens of people were all staring as a woman, notably a thief by her attire, hobbled down the street with a bloody leg. I looked away as I thought this was all, until she screamed "Hurry up!" and launched into a long list of profanities I didn't feel the need to translate. I found it easy to blend in within the crowd, and was completely startled when Ezio ran along, following her; which didn't make sense to me, mind you, because three seconds prior I'd been expecting him.

They ran on, and disappeared around a corner. I stood for a moment in indecision, and then cussed as I began to run off after them. I didn't have my weapon with me, only that last throwing knife, which meant I was greatly limited on choice. I turned the corner, just as he was bending to pick her up. A dark, black emotion coiled within my stomach, and I took out my tiny little knife. I stood there, for a few heavy seconds, just watching them, and then I poised to throw it, and it was gone from my hand. A guard, only seconds from coming up behind Ezio toppled to the ground.

Ezio picked up the movement and turned to see the guard. I stood, frozen like a statue, as his eyes raked over me. His expression didn't change; he only turned back and kept on running. I turned back, and headed for Leonardo's place, regretting the fact that I didn't hide. He probably would have known it was me, but that would take us back to square one. When I reached Leonardo's, it had grown late in the day, and I only needed to knock once before he answered the door.

We sat by the fireplace, which was very nearly identical to his workshop in Florence; the entire place was, only here, it was slightly bigger. As it grew dark, I lit a fire, and Leonardo offered me coffee; it was really odd to be offered coffee back when I didn't think it existed, but I suppose it had to come from somewhere. I never liked coffee, so I passed. While he made it, I stared at the fire, and curled up in my chair, with my arms around my legs, and my head on my knees. I was a little bit tired of this; part of me longed for Monteriggioni, and another part for Florence, but mostly, it was for home.

I discussed with Leonardo about finding a place to stay, and of course, he insisted I stayed here. So he showed me upstairs, and it was far nicer than Florence, but perhaps that was because it was less lived-in. I had a room to myself, with a double bed this time, and fairly lush blankets. Just before he left me to my own devices, I asked him for a favour, which he granted without question. And then, I went to bed.

I had a dream that night, a dream of home that made me happy, before I was rudely interrupted by the sound of hinges screeching. It was early; I couldn't see any light outside at all, and I didn't dare move from the warmth of the bed to see what was happening downstairs. Perhaps Ezio had been given a key to the place. That would be better than waking Leonardo up just because of his totally fucked up sleeping schedule.

I could hear the creaking of a body, slowly coming upstairs, and a door opening further down the hall. My hair was standing on end, regardless of the fact I was half asleep. There were a few quiet whispers, that slowly grew louder for a moment, and then they quieted. A curl of regret coiled up in my stomach. A part of me wanted to jump out of bed and run to Ezio, and tell him I'm sorry, and that I'd speak to him whenever he wanted.

The other part of me held contempt for the things that were both not of my business, and far out of my control. In layman's terms, I was a drama queen... but there was justification. I didn't have another reason for my actions, save for self-preservation. I rolled onto my side, and was pulled back under very, very quickly. The morning was cool and crisp, and it took me a fair few moments to realize that the window was open. Leonardo must have a death wish.

Of course, I meant this in a joking fashion; I adore Leonardo! I wrapped myself in a warm, floor length dress, and moved downstairs. Leonardo was nowhere in sight; maybe out getting some food. I stood there in the doorway, and settled for looking around. Damn I missed having a tv. And a playstation. As it turns out, all my favourite series—Castle, Bones, and endless amounts of books—were probably long since finished. I sighed, and leant up against the wall. Time passed slowly, but pass it did.

It had only been days, but I'd begun to be helpful. I'd ask about Ezio, but apparently he was busy. He must've been damn busy helping out his new girlfriend; last I checked, no girl I knew was that high maintenance. And to be honest, it hurt a little; I was supposed to be his Shortround, his Robin. But then again... didn't Robin go off and become his own superhero? Well, in the comics at least. Of course, the idea of me being a superhero was positively crazy; I was still very much vincible.

And I was helping Leonardo. He'd give me some money and I'd buy him paints, and get him food. And lately, he seemed to be appreciating me more. I mean, he didn't ever not appreciate me, but these past few days he seemed to be busier; I actually had to force him to eat once. He seemed a little less free; his manner reminded me of a bird in a cage. I just couldn't tell why. It had been a week or so since we arrived, and as far as I knew, he hadn't talked to anyone all too much.

A single guard came by, and Leonardo ushered me up the stairs; not that I went any further up the stairs than around the corner, out of sight. From what I could tell, they thought he was living alone, so it would make sense for me to disappear. I didn't want to get Leonardo into trouble. I think it was around eleven days after we'd arrived, and I'd begun to learn how to paint (I tried not to use much paint, because it was pretty expensive) but Leonardo insisted I try his trade. I had painted this one picture that I absolutely adored, the canvas mostly shrouded in watercolour blue.

I was in a dress, sheathed by a huge old raggy thing I threw together so I wouldn't make a mess of myself. I remember clearly how hard I was holding the paintbrush, when a knock at the door startled me, and I dropped the paintbrush entirely. Once glance toward Leonardo and I could tell he wasn't expecting any visitors. Naturally, I made a beeline for the corner that hid me and the staircase from sight, and sat myself down precariously, hoping I wouldn't have to retreat further.

To my surprise, it wasn't a guard, or someone asking for money or a commission; it was Ezio. A pool of emotions swirled up inside me, and I was waiting for a call from Leonardo, to tell me it was alright to come out. I honestly did not know where I stood, and whether he was angry at me, or if I was angry with him. And then I remembered his girlfriend, which pretty much sealed the deal. The pair of them must have been deaf to not be able to hear my steps ascending the staircase.

I found myself on the edge of my bed, looking out the window, opening it to lean out and look down at the quiet little patio in front of Leonardo's house. It was a little bit cold, but such was the way of winter. It would've been summer at this time of year in Australia. I caught myself thinking of everything; my brother would have been half way through Uni by now. I wonder if he changed what he was going to study again. I wish I had the chance to finish school; I would have liked to live knowing that a good ten years of my life was wasted on something that would never come to any use. It was heartbreaking, actually. Now that I thought about it, there were so many things that I couldn't get the chance to do. Not that travel was on the list, but I really think I could get a large amount of that done in this time frame, provided that things weren't too politically unstable. I really hoped not.

I was staring off into space, and I was happy to just lose myself. I no longer gave much thought to my future, as I didn't really know where it was headed. I was expecting Ezio to join me, and surely enough, he came. We were silent for a few minutes. I looked to his eyes and he was staring straight back. Excruciatingly. The air was heavy around me, the cold air no longer painful to breathe in. I stood up from the edge of the bed and moved to close the window. My eyes flicked up to the surrounding buildings that made this small part of Venice so enclosed, and faltered, only slightly. I could swear I saw someone, a person, only slightly taller than me, but much thinner, lying on the roof. Yes, there he was. I could barely make out the shape, only just darker than the rooves around him. And it wasn't the fact that someone was watching me that bothered me. I couldn't put a finger on it exactly. But he was there. Staring directly at me. Eyes shining in the light.

He didn't even move, until I realized that he had some kind of weapon, kind of like a spitball shooter but a lot more deadly-looking, pointed toward me. I was frozen on the spot, so much that when Ezio came over to stand beside me, he froze too, only for a moment. He pushed my hands off the window and closed them, pulling the curtains closed and shoving me out of view from the window.

"What's going on?" I asked him, but he was at my door, calling Leonardo's name. He cleaned up the room, even as much as making sure I left no hair on the bed sheets. He made sure there was no trace of my presence. His motions were swift, and robot-like.

"Leonardo, I need you to get rid of every trace of Abigail downstairs." But Leonardo, standing in the doorway as he was, started to protest. It made me smile that he'd put up a fight for me like that. But Ezio was now in business mode; his emotions were carefully hidden in a closet at the back of his mind.

"Leonardo, please. She's had someone watching her for who knows how long. She needs to disappear, and that means she can't have existed in the first place." But that's the thing; he wasn't there just before Ezio arrived. Or was he? My voice was caught in my throat; I could barely keep up.

When Leonardo continued to question him, Ezio trudged downstairs, leaving Leonardo and I to stare at one another. Downstairs, Ezio was doing just little things; getting rid of the second lot of dishes I hadn't touched yet, putting my dresses and clothes in a large wooden chest. He picked up the painting and faltered; I don't think Leonardo noticed, but I did. He handed it to Leonardo and asked him to hide it. Questions formed in my head to why this was an exception.

Just before we left, he spoke a few quiet words to Leonardo, and handed him a coin purse. Leonardo was sober, but understood why some things had to happen. I admired him for his ability to simply take things on with a pinch of salt. I sure as hell couldn't; I was going to bombard him with questions on the way, and I wasn't planning to take anything he threw at me this time.

We headed out, and through a part of Venice I hadn't explored. For the first five minutes, I spent a lot of time looking up at the rooves while Ezio had his arm linked through mine, until he chastised me. He told me to never let the enemy know that I knew where they were; he told me to anticipate, and expect. To listen to my instincts; he sounded a good fifty years older than he was, but I had to give him a fair bit of credit, because I knew he could handle himself in this situation. I'd _seen_ him handle himself, rather well too. I asked him where we were going, he didn't respond. I asked him who it was that was watching me, he didn't respond. Just before I was going to absolutely crack it at him, he promised me he'd let me know everything once we were somewhere safe.

Using that thought, I managed to keep my mouth shut, and let him tug me along hurriedly. We walked and walked, and the more I looked around, I noticed people staring at us. I mean whole groups of people, all with their eyes glued to our faces. I ducked my head down, feeling Ezio's arm tighten around mine. I made a mental note to buy a scarf at some point. I was getting awfully self-conscious by the time we reached the edge of a walkway, where the concrete sloped down into a wooden–slated pier.

We took a gondola, Ezio rowing me along. In all honesty, I felt utterly stupid for sitting in a boat smaller than a single bed, but I guess it got us off the streets. I could see that we were on the edge of the city; I could look out to my right and see nothing but water. I couldn't even see the horizon because it blended in with the ocean so well. I noticed we were keeping a distance from the edges of town, but it never disappeared completely, and then it gradually grew bigger again as we drifted into a small canal. I was helped up the small set of stairs that led into the canal, and Ezio took point while I followed him attentively.

For some reason, he wasn't too agitated by the scenery like I was. A narrow alleyway, isolated and deserted. Was there anything else that screamed trouble? Or worse. And it occurred to me that I'd left my blade at Leonardo's; unless Ezio had hid it in his tights on the way over, it was still there. And I wasn't. I found that… inconvenient, above everything else. I kept constantly checking behind us, checking the rooves. Assessing the possibility that I'd have to flee, and discovered that if I went back, I'd have to paddle in the gondola or swim, two things of which neither I'd have the capacity to do. Ezio better bloody know what he was doing.


	12. Chapter 12

The alleyway was only about fifty metres in length; hardly a walk at all. Ezio seemed strangely comfortable, though. I held the confidence that he knew what he was doing, and I realized that I was right to hold it, as when we turned a corner into a courtyard, I finally understood why he wasn't tense. And I understood why he wouldn't tell me things.

The courtyard was no bigger than that outside Leonardo's. This one was rectangle shaped, with the side entrance we'd come through and an arched hole in the wall for the front entrance. There were only one or two other people in this courtyard, but I could see people milling about through the front entrance, going about their daily lives. I'd have to give Ezio brownie points because this place wasn't as secluded as Leonardo's.

I expected us to turn out, onto the main street, when Ezio suddenly hung a sharp right, straight into a doorway. He rapped on the door twice and turned to me, encouraging me to get closer, just as the door opened. I watched from about a metre back as he greeted a man, naming him Antonio and formally introduced us. Apparently he'd mentioned me once or twice, and I must say, Antonio was rather charming. Almost as lovely as Leonardo.

Ezio was relatively businesslike with him, and tried his best to avoid me coming up in conversation while I was blatantly standing right there. I made a note to ask about that. They talked about strategy a lot of the time I was there, making plans for what they were going to do next. A lot of it was a little bit boring to me. I spent a lot of it looking around at the antiques on all his shelves; there were a few books that were just gorgeous, the covers made of red leather.

And then came the conversation about where I'd stay. Ezio told him of the man he saw from my window, and how I needed a change of location. Antonio offered me a place here, my own room, bed and everything. I could even use a weapon if I found it lying around. Of course, Ezio being the gentleman he is, outright said "she stays in my room." So _this_ is where he'd been staying all this time. I can't say it didn't cross my mind that he would've gone to the nearest brothel. Again.

Admittedly, my cheeks started to turn a deep scarlet as soon as he said it, and Antonio looked greatly taken aback. What the hell was he thinking? He wasn't really in any position to make demands, as far as I saw it, however Antonio very quickly recovered and agreed, calling for someone to make amendments to the suitability of his room. We went back outside and got a bit of a tour around. We ran into the woman I'd seen Ezio with, and her name was Rosa. Naturally, I didn't like her, and didn't act otherwise. But she was a little bit nice. More like curt, less nice. But she was genuinely happy to meet me, by the looks of it. I tried to keep that in mind.

Much like the brothel in San Gimignano, there was a long corridor lined with bedrooms, and of course, Ezio's room was near the far end. Antonio informed Ezio he'd be meeting with a few of his men tomorrow, and then left us to our own devices. I wasn't a huge fan of being left alone with Ezio, especially since I noticed the double bed in the centre of the room. If it was anything like that of my era, it was going to be a tight fit tonight. Something in my stomach fluttered at the thought of sleeping beside him.

We didn't really speak much. He answered a question or two of mine, but we were mostly quiet. I spent time on the bed, while Ezio stayed at the desk, writing a letter to Claudia. I asked him to throw in a hi from me, but I had little idea how that sort of thing was taken at this point in time. The day grew late, and the clouds finally gave a slight break for sunset. Sadly, my window was pointed away from the sunset, but I could see the colours slowly go dark blue.

I fell asleep long before Ezio, and I had a beautiful dream that night, that Ezio simply leaned over and kissed me. There was no politics, no bickering, or arguing. And not even on the mouth; he just murmured a few words I couldn't quite make out, and placed a small kiss to my temple. It was a simple dream, but enough to make me happy. And let's face it; I'd given up on ignoring my feelings for him a long time ago. A part of me hoped it wouldn't last, and that i could just get on with life without complications, but the other part, and this was the more prevalent part, wanted him to notice me back. And do something about it.

I had an amazing sleep, and as soon as I woke up, I noticed how very close I was to him. And there was so much temptation to simply move forward a bit. But he looked so peaceful. His face reminded me of the day I'd met him; child-like, and innocent. He was only a couple years older than me, but he'd already taken on so much responsibility. He may aswell have had the world on his shoulders. He began to stir, and I turned so my back was to him.

Ezio left, probably still thinking I was asleep, and I just laid there for some time. The room was relatively small; there was only enough room for a double bed, a desk and chair to the right of it, and a small wardrobe that had seen better days. The walls and ceiling were a faded blue-white-grey colour, and the floor was paved flat. There wasn't too much to speculate on, like I'd hoped. But I can say, the room looked better in the dark.

I dressed myself in something I found in the closet, and I almost had an anyeurysm when I put it on. _Pants._ Oh my god. This was something I'd dreadfully missed about my time. It was enough to motivate me to leave the room and take a bit of a look around. My neck wound was practically healed, having been burned closed and now given time to heal a little bit. I tried to have a go at climbing some scaffolding, but I just couldn't reach the second level of it, so I settled for a ladder just outside the courtyard. I didn't really do much besides pace around on the rooves; I had no idea where Ezio was or if he'd come back again today. It seemed likely though.

I decided to go down and maybe meet someone, but I quickly found there was no-one in sight I could talk to. The enclosed courtyard was relatively dull, so of course, I decided to do some exploring, just to gather my bearings. Yes, I received alot of stares and dirty looks for my chosen attire. The clothes were a little bit baggy, but I was pretty sure you could still see everything. I liked to think I'd thinned out over the last while; there were still curves, but I wasn't pudgy, which I personally considered a good thing. If I took a look at the girls around me, I noticed how little consideration they took toward their body type. Very few of them looked remotely concerned with how they pysically were. It was intriguing but, it made me sad for my generation.

I had quickly earned enough stares that I decided to return, and change into my everyday attire. It's not that I hated the idea of not fitting in, but sometimes people just unsettle you with their eyes. I was sitting cross-legged on the entrance to the courtyard, when I saw a group, no more than seven, of thieves on the horizon, heading this direction. At first, my immediate thought was to go find someone, but then I realized that we were staying at the home of the thieves guild, and I sort of mentally facepalmed. Assessing the surrounding area, I noticed a coup, probably where pigeons would fly in with messages.

When the group finally reached me, I caught a few puzzled looks, but none of them really outright questioned me. They disappeared into the same study I'd gone into upon meeting Antonio. I discovered I was actually slightly disappointed because Ezio wasn't with them, so I had to ask _someone_. It was already mid-afternoon.

Within the courtyard, there was a sequence of stairs that faced away from the side entrance (so I couldn't see it from where I first entered). That was how we got into the building, and where Ezio's bedroom was, etc. Antonio's office didn't look to lead anywhere, at least that I could see. As it turns out, one of the bigger rooms we walked past at first entrance was not a bedroom, but kind of like a rumpus room; an insignificant detail I would liked to have known at the start of today. The few that were lounging around on chairs, or sitting and drinking, all looked too drunk to ask anything consequential, so I settled for a seat by the dart board. Well, it wasn't really a dart board; they threw knives instead.

One of the men I took a particular liking to; his name was Ugo, and he appeared to be the only one who didn't question who I was. Of course he knew; he'd spent the day with Ezio, scouting out a few places. At the mention of Ezio, I asked, and he told me about how Ezio had some unfinished business, and that he'd be done soon. I settled down, got to know him. Occasionally he'd say words I was unfamiliar with, as I still had to take the time to translate a fair bit of the italian spoken toward me, and he had to explain, rather slowly too.

He wasn't flirtatious or anything, he was just friendly. He told me all about why he was a thief, and how he met Antonio. He sortofmaybe also mentioned a small crush on Rosa, Ezio's sort-of-accused-girlfriend. Just maybe. But Ezio and Rosa hadn't really talked all that much since I'd arrived, but I didn't think that would stop them. Ezio always had his way.

When the sun finally crept down to the horizon, I was admittedly a little tipsy. I was laughing and chatting with a group of Ugo's friends, and we were all just having a grand old time when Antonio walked in. I found it strange, since he always appeared to be separate from everyone else, but everyone else didn't seem to notice. It was kind of like learning a new language; at first you learned the words individually, and it took time to be able to place them together within a context. I was really enjoying myself, but something about him caused me to sober up a bit. I stole a glance to the window, and discovered that dusk was very quickly approaching. Antonio was aettled over at the bar. Everything was a little bit shaky, so when Ugo announced that he had things to do, I complained, loudly.

"But this is great fun! Come on, just a little longer!" I could hardly manage the translation now. Ugo whook his head; he wasn't nearly as drunk as I was. I thought he'd only had one drink, a little while ago, too. He smiled a lovely smile at me, and began to help me to my feet; obviously thinking I'd had enough for the night. I was kind of sleepy, so when he led me by the arm, I leant my head on his shoulder. A couple people laughed at the display.

Outside the rumpus room thing, it was much colder. I stumbled a fair bit, and every time we both laughed. At my door, he asked me if I needed help getting to the bed, but I just waved it off and gave him a kiss on the cheek as a goodnight. He closed the door after me and left, with my head spinning much more than I'd like to admit. I sort of collapsed onto the bed, and fell asleep with whatever I had with me on.

The dreams that night were horribly violent. For some reason, this dream featured every dead body I'd ever seen. Every single one. It frightened me half to death. At a part where I saw that night where Ezio brought that dead body to hide, I began to scream, and scream. My dreams were like thick, dark, black water I couldn't completely emerge from. I was crying, I knew it, but I just couldn't get out. And then there was his voice, calm, gentle, soothing in my ear, telling me that none of it is real. It's just a dream. To wake up.

I realized I'd been thrashing around, the blankets were everywhere and my dress had rided up to my thighs. Ezio was leaning over me, his face inches from me, his hands covering mine so I wouldn't accidentally hit him. My eyes completely focused, and it was over. But the terror was still white-hot, and alive within me. Ezio released my hands and I curled up into a ball. He sat directly infront of me on the bed, placing one hand under my chin so I would look at him.

"What was it?" but I shook my head. I didn't want to talk to him about it. I just cried, and I didn't object when he tried to hold me to his chest, awkwardly because I was curled up in a ball. I don't think there was anything romantic about it, he was just caring for me like a friend would. The feelings I got weighed me down with every breath. I didn't go to sleep immediately, not really. I couldn't. I clinged to my legs, and when I'd lost all strength for that, I clinged to him, and I wouldn't let go.

I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up to a knock at the door, though not properly awake. I was in that place between awake and asleep, where you're conscious of the world around you but you're still tired and sort of asleep. I could feel Ezio's body shift, only slightly, and then there was the hush of whispers. I couldn't make anything out so I didn't bother. The person at the door left.

I was just moments from dozing off again when Antonio opened the door. I wondered what he thought when he saw me like this. Probably thought I couldn't hold my alcohol very well.

Ezio quietly whispered to him "nightmares," answering any questions he'd have about that. He proceeded to brief Ezio on a situation where a few thieves got caught last night. They were still working on tracking them down and finding out what went wrong, but for the most part, we couldn't do anything until they'd stopped moving the thieves around, and put them in one spot. Ezio thanked him, and he left. Ezio tried to wake me up, just quietly, but I was so sleepy. He managed to get me to lift my head, and I was slowly coming around. I was looking straight into his chocolate brown eyes, and damn, was he dreamy.

"I'm sorry." I managed to get out. I lifted myself off him, and he sat up.

"What happened?" he asked me. Only now, I found it easier to speak. I told him in a quiet voice that I must've had too much alcohol, but I knew that wasn't what he was asking. He gave me a look that said exactly that, and I had to think of the words before I said the entire thing. I still thought in english.

"I saw everyone. Every face. All of them, dead. And then, there was that night at Leonardo's where that guard followed you there and- And-" I was just about to burst into tears, but he stopped me.

"Do not cry for the things that have passed. It is not normal to see people dying around you. If you think of it as your life or theirs, who would you choose?" I had to sit for a moment, taking it in. But wouldn't that mean an unfair judgement over whose life is of greater worth? It's not right to consider yourself above everyone else, nor is it right for them to consider you below them. It's all unfair. For a person who dealt with death as a career, he gave shit advice.

"How old were you when you first saw death?" his eyes went hard. I didn't know whether to expect a slap across the face or tears, just by the look in his eyes. He stood up and began to pace a little bit. I noticed the desk was cleared off, and I wondered where he'd slept last night, if at all.

"Not long before I met you. My father and my brothers, Petruccio and Frederico, were executed at the same place that I killed Francesco De Pazzi. In the middle of the courtyard were the very same gallows. You remember them, don't you?" he asked. I had to look away to think about it, and I realized I'd completely overlooked them. The idea made me uneasy at the time, so I ignored it. I nodded at him, without meeting his eye. He moved over to stare out the window, down into the courtyard.

"I should be going. Antonio has requested my presence in a meeting soon; you should get some rest." he told me. Again, I had to fight to drink it all in.

"Is this about the thieves who got caught?"

"You were awake." A statement, not a question.

"Sort of." He gave me a disapproving look; something I earned often with him. It was nice to see his hood lowered, even just for a while. He must've slept in his clothes last night, too.

"Can I come?" I asked hopefully. I didn't want to go back to sleep. Not just yet. He was in obvious indecision; he bit his scarred lip absent-mindedly, and furrowed his brow. Just as I went to pipe up, he cut me off.

"To the meeting, yes." Of course, I pitched a fit.


	13. Chapter 13

**Okay, I just noticed the problem with what I'd put up, so here's the same chapter but fixed. :L**

**Vive les vacances! **

"They've reached their final destination, it seems."

"Where are they being held?" Antonio indicated three points on the map for Ezio.

"How long do you think we'll have to get them out?" I perked up at the mention of "we". Ezio gave me a look.

"I'd give it a few hours; we're not sure yet what they're planning but we know it's not good." Ezio drank it in and got up to pace the room, biting his lip. I'd never really noticed him doing that before today. Was something wrong? Was it me? Anxiety welled in my gut.

"Perhaps Abigail and I need to do some running around. Where is Ugo at the moment? Considering he managed to just get out, I'd like to talk to him. Maybe find out what's going on exactly." Again, I perked up at the idea of me going with him. I'd really, really like that. The side of Ezio's mouth tipped up just slightly because of my attitude change.

"Over near the Palazzo Della Seta. When you arrive, take to the rooftops and you'll see him." Antonio replied, and with that, we headed out. Ezio's mood seemed to lighten greatly, and he was still relatively relaxed here. Personally, I only felt safe when he was around.

He suggested I change my clothes, and I happily obliged. It was hard to run in a dress, no matter what length. As it turns out, the clothes had been placed there for me upon my arrival; I didn't know how to feel about this. Did they want me to fit in, or was it a nice gesture to convey to me that I was welcome here? I changed quickly, but I didn't know what to do with my hair. Even if I tied it up, I could be easily recognised by it.

Ezio suggested I tuck it down the back of my top, which I wouldn't have thought of myself. We headed for the rooves, and at a steady pace, we ran. Ezio went to the trouble of pointing out particular landmarks, the Palazzo Ducale, Rialto Bridge, and finally, the Palazzo Della Seta. The direction we came from, we had to find a way across the wide street below I'd recognised as the marketplace. I suddenly remembered the doll I'd wanted to buy for Leonardo, and called ahead to Ezio to slow down for a second.

I explained, and he gave me a few coin for it. I made a quick trip to the streets, and crossed to the stall. The sun wasn't particularly low in the sky, it was still mid-afternoon, and the crowds of people were only beginning to wane. The lovely old woman who'd promised it to me had sold it, as she "didn't know if I'd ever return." I was so disappointed; I hadn't really disappeared for all that long, had I?

I returned to Ezio on the rooves and gave him back his coin. He gave me a comforting smile, and we kept on running. I found I had to stop every so often for a rest; Ezio must have spent a long time running before he became what he is. We arrived not long after, and Ugo was happy to see me. I received a warm greeting, nothing like Leonardo but still warm. Ezio raised an eyebrow at me, and I blushed.

Ugo didn't have exact locations, just general areas, so Ezio sent me off in one direction with the strict instructions to not engage in any form of contact with anyone, and that I was to return to Ugo as soon as I had news. No fighting, but of course, I was granted a blade.

I decided to go by the streets, and boy, was I slow. It took me a solid twenty minutes to get within the vicinity of the place Ezio had sortof described. Eventually, I came up short, though, as there were a bunch of city guards right up on the corner of this small street. I mean, like ALOT of them. At least five, all blocking off a tiny doorway to what looked like a tiny square. I walked past them as normally as possible.

The gas lamps were beginning to come alive, lighting the dark street, making me flinch at the brightness for only a moment. I turned a corner into the alleyway, and spotted my target. It was hard to climb with a dagger literally up my sleeve, but years of owning a bunk bed made it considerably easier. I'd just clambered onto the roof, and I flicked my head up when I noticed, not fifty metres from me, a guard with his back turned.

Instantly, I froze; but he hadn't noticed me yet. I scooted over to the top of the ladder and dropped down three bars, so my eyes were just over the top of the ledge. He didn't make a move, didn't turn or flick his head. His arm flew over his shoulder, and he took out his bow, drawing an arrow with haste. He had his eyes on something, or someone, but I couldn't tell what for sure. I slowly anchored myself up, onto the roof, making a quick assessment of nearby guards in the area, but they were far enough for me to hit the ground and hide before they'd made it over to this expanse of the roof.

I unsheathed the sword—well, dagger. If it was a sword, it was pitiful—and crept up behind the man. My heart was beating loudly in my chest, my breaths were shallow. With the hilt of the blade, I hit him as hard as I could on the back of the head. For a split second, I stopped breathing, and then he whipped around to stare at me, one hand clutching the back of his head, a dark look in his eyes. Obviously I'd caught him off-guard—again with the pun—but now he knew exactly where I was, and now I didn't have any advantage. I gripped the blade tight, and, with my eyes clenched, swung out at him blindly. Because of the way I was holding the blade, I thought I'd missed him entirely, until the last moment.

I heard a pained cry—probably well beyond pained—and a soft gurgle that made my gut turn. I took a step back, and without glancing at him, walked over closer to the far edge of the roof overlooking the square. I was right in thinking they were guarding this place for a reason; thieves, no more than six of them, were cramped into one tiny iron cage. They were yelling insults at the guards, who were calmly resisting the urge to take them out of their cage and beat them. As if it wasn't obvious. I didn't wait around for anyone's attention; I stepped back from the ledge and turned to run.

The next thing I knew, the roof was right up against my face, but it wasn't flat. I propped myself up onto my elbows, and just before I rose to my feet, I saw the guard's body move. Only slightly; I could swear it's what I saw. But no, I'd sliced his throat. He couldn't still be alive. Seconds felt like hours, just standing there, looking over his body. Taking in every inch of his lifeless form. He was definitely dead. My hands began to quiver, at first only slightly, but by half way down the ladder, I could barely hold on to it enough to move. I tried to hold them flat and still against the wall, but when I did that, the shaking moved up to my arms. I began to retrace my steps.

I followed the long street back to a fork in the road, and from there, I headed for the same ladder I'd used to come down on my way out, only, something stopped me. This road looked familiar; I paced about fifteen steps in every direction before I spotted exactly why. I ran up to the door, and stood in the doorway a moment, looking around behind me before even thinking about knocking. I looked back to the roof consciously, and realized that Ugo had been where he was the entire time; and I didn't notice where I was the first time. I mentally slapped myself.

I was going to knock, I really was going to, but I swear to god, Ezio knew all the worst moments to catch me in the act of something. I raised my arm to hit the door, but Ezio grabbed me by the forearm and somewhat gently forced me away. I guess I didn't really put up much of a fight; in this case, I was more like a kid who'd just been caught with one hand in the cookie jar. I guess I knew better. I broke away, but didn't speak a word; just headed for the ladder and climbed up. I was expecting Ezio to follow me, but at the top, when I looked back down, he was nowhere to be seen.

I moved over to where Ugo was crouching over a thief I didn't know. He was relatively busy, so I looked at the others around him. Most of them looked okay, they just seemed a little shaken up; nothing you couldn't recover from. A boy, probably a year or two younger than me, had a bruise across his right eye. I busied myself with my sleeve which I could see now had a few darkening drops on it. I forgot about my blade within my sleeve, and it clattered to the ground, giving me a bit of a start. Nobody really seemed to notice I was there anyway.

I didn't like waiting, even though I knew full well I could help out with Ugo and patching up this one guy. He looked pretty badly messed up, but I couldn't handle it all too well anyway. I didn't go too far; I was still in sight of Ugo and the whole group, but from here, I could see a tiny dot on the horizon that was where I'd found the caged thieves. And there were a few people gathering aroundthe body I'd left. If my mother was here.

I stood for a moment, biting my cheek and deciding. I took a few steps and then turned back. It was a stupid idea. No way. I shouldn't. But then Ezio arrived with another four thieves, and this time when he left, I trailed closely behind him. And the weirdest thing of all was, he didn't complain. It was a much shorter run than walk, and I made it there with minimal fatigue. Just before Ezio crossed the last gap before the square, I tugged his shoulder and asked for his knives, and without a single word, he handed over seven. The group I'd seen surrounding the body earlier had left, taking the body with them. I was glad. Working with Ezio was quick, quiet, and efficient; so I really enjoyed working with him, naturally.

He slipped down into the square, and I took care of the nearby guards on the rooftops with a couple flicks of my wrist. The idea was to quickly sneak the guys out, and run. Only, it didn't do exactly that. You see, one guard at the entrance decided to turn around and stare directly at Ezio. For a moment, Ezio froze, and then, well, he flicked out his blades.

The guy yelled "What the hell are you doing in here!" and charged him clumsily. Ezio was ready, though, and jesus, he was good. I ran around to the bodies I'd left, and grabbed the knives. Getting down was a little bit of a problem, but I managed to find a spot that didn't really test my balance. No one seemed to notice me.

I threw a knife—I seriously amazed myself at how I'd never really touched one of these before I'd met Ezio, and already I was pretty good at aiming and hitting—and it sunk into one man's back. He keeled over. For a minute I just watched Ezio, really watched him. It was almost like he could tell exactly what they'd do, and was always one step ahead. He hadn't opened the cage yet, I noticed, but there didn't look to be much either of us could do about that. Another guard fell, and now there were three left. One of them was huge; big, with gold-plated armour and an axe that looked very happy to be where it was. Did they really need to send one of these guys out for just a few thieves?

I narrowly missed another guard, and as it whizzed past his side, his friend turned to the source; me. He backed off from the fight, but as soon as his back was to Ezio, he halted suddenly in his tracks and made a horrid gurgle sound. Ezio stepped back from his crumpling body and moved on. I gritted my teeth and took out the smaller of the two guys, and now the huge guy was all that was left. Ezio had to muck around with him a bit more, and seemed to do a bit more dodging than normal. As for the gold guy, he was just swinging the axe around like nobody's business. I chucked a knife, but I knew it wouldn't pierce his armour. And I was right; what I hadn't considered was that it was the perfect distraction that Ezio needed.

He jumped up—kind of resembling a spider to me—and went for goldie's jugular. They both fell to the ground, but Ezio was the one to make it out alive. I smiled, and took a quick glance around, before deciding it was safe to come down. Then, I froze.

Ezio was unlocking the cage when I called out to him, and at first, he was just waiting for me to say something. Then he turned to look at me.

"I can't get down."


	14. Chapter 14

Well. I did get down eventually. Admittedly Ezio had to convince me to jump and then he caught me. Yeah. Not really my greatest moment. Anyway, moving on.

As soon as we returned to the Thieves' guild, Antonio had something else for Ezio to do, and I gladly followed. I wasn't even tired; though probably because I was on a bit of a high from all the exercise. So funnily enough, we went from saving thieves, to killing them. Apparently there were a few traitors within the guild, and we were supposed to catch them while they were letting the bad guys know the goss. Just to incriminate them a little more than they were already. I guess it explained why they spent a lot of time moving the previously-caged thieves around for ages until they decided what to do with them. They knew.

I spent the majority of the twenty minute meeting spectating, which looked like a regular occurrence, and then when we went to leave, Ezio turned the corner down into the alleyway, but stopped about half-way down.

"I don't want you to come on this one, Abigail." he told me. This time though, when he said it, he was looking directly at me, straight in the eye. Different, I thought.

"Why?" I asked. For an odd reason, I wasn't angry. It was the way he was looking at me. His eyes were wide, and he was so serious. So damn serious.

"I will tell you. I promise, I will. But please get some rest. You look tired."

I sighed in defeat. He raised his hand and placed it on my shoulder, right over my scar. It was pretty much gone. You'd have to be looking for it to know it was there. He played with a curl of hair, and then something changed in him. He stood straighter, and his fists were now clenched. He told me to go inside, and I turned to leave. I heard him yell to me from the rooftop, though I couldn't see him; the alley wasn't lit like the courtyard was. He yelled to me to stay away from the alcohol. I smiled to myself, and then went inside. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

I slept til midday, or close to it, and probably ate as much as one of the mercenaries in Monteriggioni—which was ALOT. I searched for Ezio everywhere, but he was still out. I headed for a familiar place, only, I found no familiar faces. Ugo was nowhere to be seen, and the place wasn't busy; I must've just missed the lunchtime rush, assuming they had one here. I went to Antonio's office, but even he was out.

I was just about to walk through the huge wooden door to the building with my room, when I heard a faint whistle. Quick, short, high pitched. If it wasn't for it's strength, I would have thought it was a bird of some kind. I closed the door and took a step back, straining to hear it again. I probably looked crazy standing there, but not once did I move. And then there it was again. I followed it this time, up a ladder, onto the rooves, a few hundred metres away, and then I looked around for a moment. I looked back to the thieves guild; or at least, I could swear it was the thieves guild. I couldn't remember what direction I'd just been running in. Shit.

I think I stood there for about half an hour, just deciding whether to stay here or go wandering and hoping I'll find a familiar street or shop or something. I had no such luck, so I asked someone. I tapped the shoulder of a random passer-by, and decided I couldn't openly mention the thieves guild. The clothes—pants today—weren't really helpful. I asked where the Rialto bridge was; I knew the general direction from there. He told me it was basically ages away but north, so I followed his directions taking minimal offense to the way he looked at me.

It took me ten minutes to reach the bridge, and from there, I knew to go west, but again, I came up short. It was only from the rooftops that I knew, finally, where I was. Heading back, I seemed to catch a little more attention than before. I stuck to the streets for the most part, and kept to myself, yet, people continued to stare. I thought I'd gotten used to it, but again, eyes threw me off the main streets. I took alleyways wherever possible, heading toward home. It took me ages to actually find a ladder, and then on my way up, I caught sight of small, yellowed square, about the length of my forearm. Across the top, a huge WANTED was displayed, and immediately below it, a familiar face. But I knew this face, and it wasn't a face I'd ever imagined was worth such a hefty reward. It was me.

Except, well, my hair was short. How ridiculous was it that I had a huge price over my head, and I was more worried about how badly they were advertising it. I mean yes, I did cut my hair, but right now it was long. I used to get one of the maids or Claudia to cut it. Never /that short though. This image had cropped my gorgeously smooth, long brown hair just below the nape of my neck. It reminded me of Rosa, and I cringed internally. Past this small picky ordeal with my hair, I no longer felt safe. A memory from the previous day had arose, and I think I understood perfectly why Ezio hadn't wanted me to come. He had asked Antonio about the traitorous thieves, and how much they knew, and Antonio had said "Everything." That's why he didn't want me to come. That's why his mood changed. That's why... well, no, it didn't really explain why he acted the way he did in the alley. I managed to climb over and tear it off the wall.

I ran for the guild without stopping—on the rooves, of course—and to be honest, it looked like it was frozen in time, because it was exactly the same as when I'd left. I headed for my room, taking note that the mess hall—a term I decided to use because no other word really described it—was busy. I didn't stop, until finally, I reached my room. I shut the door loudly behind me and leant up against it, closing my eyes and breathing heavily. And it took time, but my heart and breathing slowed. My throat was aching, of all places, but it was an improvement. I decided to finally move from my spot, but as soon as I opened my eyes, I did a kind of half-scream-yelp-thing. Ezio, in all his aesthetically pleasing glory, was standing right in front of me. The light outside was just turning the golden orange of sunset, and it contrasted oddly with his features. He didn't look particularly happy, come to mention it.

He was standing directly in front of me, had probably been waiting for me to open my eyes. I put a hand through my hair, but was only met with knots. For a moment, I took in his entire being; he was only in a loose shirt and pants, and they were rumpled, at that. His hair was tousled, and he didn't have his hair tied up. He raised an eyebrow at me, and I moved away from the door, onto the edge of the bed, and began taking off my shoes.

"What's with the face?" I asked him.

"I could ask you the same thing." I scowled at him. He didn't grin, he just looked at me expectantly. I looked up at him from my laces, stopped for a moment, and sighed loudly, making sure he knew it.

"Well, I woke up, and I was looking for you, 'cause you were still out and it was ages since you left, and then when I went to go back inside, I heard something, so… I followed it. And well, I might've gotten lost." I winced, waiting for him to mention how dangerous it was to go off on my own, and how I shouldn't have. Instead, half of his face turned up into a cheeky smile; a rarity in my presence. He sat down on the bed beside me and placed his hand on my arm, the warmth of his arm seeping into my skin. It was a somewhat brotherly embrace, but I still found my stomach fluttering at the touch. I didn't really notice much of a change in him at all, and my hopes, once again, disintegrated.

The moment faded, and he cleared his throat.

"I'm going to gain a few more hours." The words took a moment to stick, and when they did, I noticed that the bed wasn't made like I'd left it. Realization caused me to spring off the bed and give a loud "oh!" I earned a soft smile.

"You're welcome to stay if you like." he told me. I was standing in the middle of the room bashfully, awkwardly wondering what to do with myself. When I didn't move, he pointed to the spot on the bed next to him. He seemed to make the bed look decrepitly small with his large form. I took my place on the bed beside him, and he rolled over onto his side, with his back to me. I was lying on my back just staring at the ceiling, allowing my head to wander.

"Hey Ezio... How long have you been here?" I asked him in a small voice.

"Maybe a few hours?"

"Well how many is a few?"

"Normally a number varying from one to seven." I scowled at his back. We drifted into silence again, for about five minutes.

"Hey Ezio... What do you dream about at night?"

"Silence, mostly. And a bigger bed."

"I'm serious!"

"So am I." I swore at him in English, and he promptly ignored me. Again, we slipped into silence. I switched positions frequently; from my back to either side, and somehow I managed to end up on my stomach. I decided to ask a final question.

"Hey Ezio...—"

"Abigail, no, we can't go see Leonardo again, not for a while."

"That wasn't what I was going to ask." Silence. Something told me that he knew exactly what I was thinking, and everything just seemed to click into place.

"Why."

"Can I please talk to you when I've rested?"

"No." I said it like it was plain obvious. Which I felt it was. He didn't speak another word to me, so I left it alone. He'd obviously woken up on the wrong side of the bed.


	15. Chapter 15

**I think there was like, four weeks in there that I haven't updated. I'M SORRY GUYS! I had an exchange student so we've been taking her all around Melbourne, and I've seriously seen so much of Melbourne that I hadn't before. And my frenchie is just so awesome! But she had to go tonight. :( **

**Anyway, nobody wants to hear about my busy holidays. Moving on! (: **

The sun had long since set before I myself drifted off, though it wasn't an altogether restful sleep. I woke up with hunger pains, and it occurred to me that I hadn't really eaten anything the day before. It was still dark, and Ezio was still beside me. If it weren't for my stomach, I would've been happy to stay there forever.

The hallway was creepy, I was always constantly checking behind me to make sure no one was there. The mess hall was empty as all hell, and so ungodly quiet. I found an apple somewhere without making a noise, and munched on it on the way back to my room. By the time I'd opened the door, the apple was long since finished. I drifted off again.

Ezio woke me, and pleasantly informed me that today was a very important day. He woke me gently, but when I rolled over and groaned, he pulled the blanket slowly from my grip; I was no match for him physically. I yelled at him and he laughed. I rolled over so my back was to him, and curled up, but he craftily decided to push me out of bed. I landed on the floor with a loud _THUNK_. And the ground, was _freezing._

I dressed quickly, and upon exiting the building, discovered the guild was more populated than I'd ever seen it. It wasn't crowded, but there were about fifty people, all thieves, grouped around, waiting for something. A group dressing in guard uniforms made me freeze for a moment, so I looked around for Ezio, who was more toward the middle of the courtyard, alongside Rosa, Antonio, and Ugo. I marched straight for them, dying to know what was going on.

Ugo was first to see me, and greeted me with a curt hello. Rosa nodded in my direction, and only then did Ezio turn to face me.

He explained what was happening; today, the thieves were taking the Palazzo Della Seta. He was going to go in solo, while the thieves take the surrounding areas outside. Then, when he opened the doors from the inside, a group of us would storm the surrounding guards. Of course, they'd planned this far in advance, so I'm not sure why I was only hearing about it now. Admittedly his height always caught me off-guard, so I also caught myself wondering why he was so tall. I didn't go to the trouble of asking about either of these.

The first lot moved out alongside Ezio, looking remarkably like real guards, and after about twenty minutes or so, the rest of us went. Moving across rooftops, we quickly found the same place that Ugo was situated the day before. Ezio reappeared, and was told he should hire thieves along the way to the entrance. Apparently Ezio had gone to significant trouble to make sure I was at the tail end of the fighting; it annoyed me considerably.

Ezio moved off, and for a lot of the time, everything was chaotic. It was Ezio's aim to climb the side and infiltrate from the rooves, and when he opened the door for us, we'd help him out. Only, it didn't go that way. As soon as he reached the top, there was shouting from every direction. Antonio got the guards outside, but that was all we could do. We basically waited on the doorstep for any kind of sign, but there was nothing. Ten minutes felt like an hour, but when those doors opened and we all rushed in to fight, there was no one there. Well, no one _alive_. Ezio stood by the door, rubbing one wrist.

"You're running late."

"Well, yes, there was a problem with the door." Ezio grinned at this.

"Perhaps you were not aware that it opened from both sides, hmm?" Antonio bit his lip. I smiled. And then it all went quiet for a sec. I looked at Ezio, and noticed a rip in his robes.

"Well—" I began, at the same time as Ezio. "We should—" And we made eye contact. His eyes were just so lovely; he had little golden specks just under his right pupil, and if we weren't around people, I'd happily stare into his eyes all day. But we were, and so, it was a quick glance, nothing more.

"Let's go in." Antonio said. And we did.

Everything was so lavish. I mean, yeah, there was the occasional soldier who'd come out of a room somewhere and be like "who the hell are you guys?" So we ended up sending a group of people around to every room, just to be sure. Then everyone started, for lack of a better word, shotgunning their rooms. I got my own, thank god, and Ezio chose the one beside mine. Like I said, everything was so lavish. Drapes from the roof to the floor, the ceiling had patterns and swirls, and the bed had a canopy. It was the kind of thing you'd expect from a really, really awesome hotel in my time. It looked like somewhere I would've been happy to stay, too. Minus the bodies that the thieves had spent the time to "dispose" of downstairs. That part I don't like so much.

But it was nice. I'd taken the time to settle in. It was probably middle afternoon—time passed so quickly here—when Ezio knocked on my door again. For all intents and purposes, the both of us had the afternoon off now. I finally asked Ezio if we could go see Leonardo; he obliged. For once.

We rocked up at his door, and the smile that gripped Leonardo's face was astronomical. He invited us in, made coffee, and started chatting about everything he'd been up to. I hadn't really been gone that long, I think, but it was long enough. Leonardo was halfway through a painting, and he was so pleased at how it was going.

Ezio made a point not to mention what he'd been doing. I, on the other hand, spoke little beyond exploring around town. I had a feeling there were always going to be things that we could never talk to Leonardo about. It was disappointing, because he was just so lovely, and he was like a bestfriend in every sense. He truly cared about everything I said, and he never passed judgement; his advice was brilliant, too.

We stayed late, just talking and catching up, and it was nice. I think by the time we left, I should have been askeep for ages. I yawned every five minutes or so, and Ezio kept on glancing at me every time. It got to thepoint where Leonardo gave up trying to tell a story and said to Ezio "You should get her home," with a smile on his face.

It actually wasn't that long a walk, and I wasn't nearly as tired as I'd been in the past when it came to late nights and getting places. It was very odd to walk into the Palazzo; everything was so quiet, and so empty. There were still poeple walking around on the streets outside, but this was different. There was one torch in the entire building; i spent alot of time on the way to my room looking behind me. There was definitely something odd about this place.

Ezio said a quick goodnight, and then moved on, and for a moment I stood in the doorway. Where my door was, on the opposite side of the hall it was kind of a balcony, and you could look down into the centre of the palazzo, and could see pretty much everything. It was a rather nice view. And the windows inside my room overlooked the east of venice, which was pretty. I could never find the rialto bridge though.

I took my time, undressed at my own leisure, and crawled into bed and just thought. There was no real breeze, so I left the window open, and had about the most normal time as I possibly could. There were so many things that I missed, and I discovered that I was starting to forget the best things. Clean, running water. Toothpaste. A dishwasher. I don't even remember falling asleep that night, just waking up in the morning.

With Ezio, there's often the sequence of doing things during the night; it was probably part of his job description, really. If his job came with a description. It really felt like he was /always out, even though it was way past an exaggeration. It also crossed my mind that he was probably way beyond tired, and maintained the same level of fatigue on a day to day basis. If it weren't for all the exercise, I would've expected his body to have started deteriorating drastically with the beating he gets daily.

No real news arrived all day from the spies around Venice, so I had a day in, just spending alot of time reading—of course, the books were in italian, so progress was slow—and exploring the place. Ezio seemed a little bit happy to stay still, however he still wore his long robes, and was still on his guard at all times. It occurred to me that he may not still fully trust Antonio, so of course he wouldn't want them to get under his skin, so to speak.

We did spend a bit of time together, and the day passed. And then so did the next. And eventually, a whole week. After the third day, I got used to having nothing to do. A whole group of thieves took to playing with their weapons in the courtyard downstairs. When i took a closer look at what they'd made the ring out of, I rushed downstairs to have a go at the two i'd assumed were responsible. Both of them had denied stacking the books as they were, and I sat down by the ring in a huff, picked up a book to check for damage. It was a fair bit different to the contemporary paperbacks as I knew books to be. The books were mostly leather, and the stitching was very finely done, human made, not by machine. There wasn't a print on the front, and you could feel that every individual word was written. These must've been so expensive.

I spent a fair bit of time cross-legged by the rink while people came and went, either watching or fighting in the ring. I'd spent such a little amount of time at the previous Thieves Guild HQ that I really didn't know how many of them there were. I'd just assumed that there was alot of them, and gotten on with it. I think I underestimated, by a huge scale. The day faded by, and again, life began to drag on.


	16. Chapter 16

**Wow. I wrote all of this last night. It's crap; cause it's boring atm! Thankyou for reviewing though; that's what made me keep going when I simply could not be bothered! (:**

I went and saw Leonardo again, only this time he was slightly more frazzled than he'd been in the past. I took note of the flying machine in the corner, just as it had been in Florence. Leonardo spoke of someone very high up and important who wanted a great many portraits of himself and his family. He barely stopped to give me a hug before he returned to his work. I hesitantly came in, but there was nowhere I could really sit. Every surface was covered in paper, or empty packaging or paint tubes. You name it, it was there somewhere.

I felt bad for dropping by unannounced, so I left quickly. I was sickly cold outside, much after sun down. It was a short walk to the Palazzo, and when it first appeared in my sight, I could see thieves watching everything from the rooftops. I don't think anything could've escaped their sight. They'd probably calm down about it in a few days anyway. I made my way to my room, but I wasn't the least bit tired, so I went to visit the night owl. He was probably more like a possum than an owl, but I doubt he'd know what I was talking about. And I didn't know the word in Italian.

Ezio wasn't in his room, so I went searching in the only other place he'd really be if he wasn't sleeping. Or out. And that was Antonio's study. I caught myself thinking of how odd it was that these guys were pretty much having a full-scale war and they didn't have to worry about bugs like they do in the spy movies. I thought of the Bourne series and how I absolutely _hated_ watching it, yet my brother loved it. My brother… I took a deep breath, and pushed on.

Ezio was exactly where I thought he'd be, and with Antonio, they were deep in discussion. Ezio nodded toward me, Antonio didn't even bother. I didn't like that; I was kind of in this space between being one of them and being a nobody. In limbo. I was important enough to be protected and to fight alongside them, but I wasn't important enough to even be greeted during "official" business. However, I bit my cheek, and listened in. They were discussing that they'd need some other way than to simply walk into the Palazzo Ducale. I racked my brain over where I'd heard this before; the doge or someone ridiculously important lived there and it was literally crawling with guards. Everywhere. They didn't stop talking, so I just got up and left, though I did catch the tail end of the conversation though. Something about a bird, and Ezio pretty much yelled "that's it!"

He caught me just before I left, and I wasn't in too great a mood from Antonio. He asked me why I hadn't gone to bed yet, and I explained that I wasn't tired. We walked toward the centre of Venice, talking. He was saying how he'd like to go back to visit his sister and mother; apparently she was getting better. I still remembered the way she looked by her bedside that long time ago, and it occurred to me that she must've gotten better. It had to. But her loss was different to mine; as far as I knew, the people I'd loved had to accept that I was gone, without absolution or knowledge of what happened. There wasn't even a goodbye. I just hope they didn't miss me as badly as I missed them.

Around the rialto, there were people every now and then. Guards roaming the streets, the occasional person empty their chamber pots—which _still_ made me cringe. They were just gross beyond belief. We were deep in conversation at the same time, however.

"How was Leonardo?"

"He's a little busy at the moment. He's got a lot of work, so I didn't really stay for long."

"Ah. Did you see what he was up to?"

"Not really. Just a portrait. Apparently at least one person comes in a day to ask him to paint a portrait, but he's been so busy on something for the Doge or something that he's had to say no."

"I bet he didn't like that much."

"No, not at all. He was saying how horrible it was to say no to someone, especially if the work was interesting. He barely has time for his research now."

"Oh, that's a shame. "

"It definitely is."

"And how about you? How have you been keeping busy? I've noticed you're going out far more than you used to. I trust you haven't met someone?" I couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"Um… no. I haven't. Why do you ask?"

"Well you seem to be out a lot, and I find there very little to be entertained with beyond the confines of the Della Seta."

"Are you sure you don't mean the brothel?" The words slipped out before I could even help myself. I bit my lip straight after. His smile faltered, his brow furrowing slightly. He was hurt at my words.

"Maybe I should return. It is very late." My eyes went huge; I didn't want him to go yet. He tried to turn me around so we could return, but I just jumped out of his range, suddenly aggravated.

"You can go. I'm going to stay here." And with that, I contradicted myself and walked off. He didn't follow me.

I had no idea where I should've gone. It was past midnight for sure. I left in the direction of Leonardo's place, but turned a corner before I reached his house. There wasn't a single person around, but I could still hear something, kind of like skittering. But it was really quiet. I looked up, back, around. Everywhere, but there was nothing. The lamp allowed me to see almost anything within a three metre radius, and then there was another about ten metres away. I'd never really been down this street before, so I paid special attention to remembering how to get back. I turned another corner, and everything was dark. A split second before anything happened, I heard the slightest microscopic little sound like sharpening a knife.

Or unsheathing a sword. I instinctively reached for the short blade at my waist that I kept around just in case. In a sword fight, it'd do nothing, but at a distance I could flick it; it was a little heavier, but it could be done if needed. I'd probably hurt the blade in the process.

I didn't even need my blade, as it turned out, because instead of receiving say, a clean red stripe across my back, I got a blunt, forceful blow to the back of my head, and I was out. I don't even remember being carried anywhere. Bastards probably dragged me anyway. My shoes _were_ unusually worn, come to think of it. But yes, I was out for the count.

When I woke up, it was dark. There was a chain on my ankle, and a throbbing in the back of my head. I couldn't see anything, and slowly the terror was building in my gut, threatening to take me over. And it was so quiet.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly, and I could make out a tiny room, maybe three metres by three, and a high ceiling. When I got close to the walls, I discovered that they weren't walls; bars, like in a jail, and they seemed to stretch on for a long while, I couldn't really put an estimate on it. Also, I went to sit down, but jesus the place was gross. It was freezing, and the air was really moist—funny how I should say that when the only form of roads are made of water here—and water was everywhere, trickling down the walls, in the cracks of the stones beneath my feed. On principle, I screamed when I found a rat skittering through my cell. Panic was filling me up, I was fighting to gain control over myself. _Goddamn it,_ I thought. _This is exactly what they want!_ Wait, I didn't know exactly who "they" was, but I had a hunch.

At first, I was only a little bit scared, but then, leaning against the wall, I began to drift in and out of sleep. I didn't want to talk to myself, for even that would break the silence that was so, so heavy. My breathing was laboured, and I couldn't tell how much time was passing. My hands were already dirty, the kind that people in my modern age would hate.

And then, there was a sound. My heart thumped my ribcage awake, and I jolted upright, fully awake and alert. A door opened at the far end of the almost hall-like jail cell, and I got a chance to have a look around for real. I drank as much in as possible. Really, it was more like a dungeon than a jail. There were two rows of cells lining the walls, with a narrower walkway down the middle. Mine seemed to be the only cell occupied, though. _Bugger, I might have to tame a pet rat then,_ I thought.

The door was left open, as seven or so people marched directly up to my cell, which by logic was half way down the aisle. Goddamn Italians. The men in the same uniform stood in a formation that seemed to revolve around the one person, who was much shorter and stouter, and because of the light I could see that he was greyer aswell. My door was opened, and all of them came inside; it would've been pretty cosy, if there was any form of bloody insulation down here. I was freezing to my bones.

I didn't know what to expect, I didn't know who any of these people were, but I knew all the same not to ask questions. Not Ezio, but Mario had told me early on that if I was ever caught, never to speak a word. Don't speak unless you absolutely have to. Don't tell them anything. And he said that he'd forgive me if I did tell them, but he only ever explained why once.

"_If they capture you, if they take you, try your best. Never speak a word that you don't have to. Don't give them the benefit of the situation. How you came to be here, neither of us know, but now you are here, and that is what matters. You weren't meant to be a part of this fight, so I will tell you that now, I am sorry for any tragedy or injury that may befall upon you. You are strong, Abigail. No matter what they say, you have to believe that it isn't true. And Ezio doesn't understand yet, but be confident that he will find you, no matter where you are taken. He will always find you."_


	17. Chapter 17

He was everywhere. His lips on my neck, his hands on my hips, his hair spilled out over my face. He had this smile, just this look where his eyes just shined and his teeth were white and it just made me melt inside. I wish he'd smile more often, because man I loved it. I never knew him before he became what he is now, but Claudia told me a few times what it was like; he was a little bit of a womanizer, and I made a point to mention to her that things hadn't really changed. She had insisted that they had.

But I barely thought I was just so caught up in all of this; something I'd never experienced before. Everywhere he touched was bliss, and when he moved, he left a trail of warmth. The cold, at first, made me yearn for him even more, but then, it enveloped me, and he faded away along with everything else. A dream. Another goddamn dream. Everything was dark again, and then, there was a light. A single, yellow light, intensely bright at the moment when I knew that the candle was nothing compared to outside. I whimpered as a cold, wet cloth touched my broken skin.

The man, well past his prime, didn't utter a word as he cleaned up today's newest round of bloodshed. He came in here every day, sometimes every second day, and nursed my wounds. I barely bothered to move; I didn't know anything, nothing at all. They already knew more than me. I just hoped that Ezio was safe. It was all for a good cause if Ezio was still able to continue his work. I just hoped I was able to prolong this state, of them not knowing, just so maybe something would happen. I whimpered again at the man, he was far too coarse to be nursing wounds. He seemed to just want to tell me to shut up, but he very kindly didn't. After all, I was the only chained up. He dipped the cloth back in the bowl, just as the door down the hall smashed open. O_h god, _I thought_. Please not again today. _

The same man I'd been playing these sorts of games with was beyond cruel. Not once had I seen his face, but I had definitely heard his voice. The way he spoke Italian was very odd; like me, he had a little bit of an accent, only it was completely different to mine. He must've spoken another language, for sure. He noticed this of me too, and quickly. He brought a hot poker an inch from my eye until I revealed that I spoke English. I didn't know why he wanted to know so bad, but I wanted to be able to see with two eyes. Before and after that, though, he simply began cutting on my limbs, leaving open wounds for the tempered old man to clean up after.

They weren't shallow cuts, either. And another day or two, and something will be infected, guaranteed, because they've all been washed in dirty water. There's no telling what he'd just put in my body; he'd probably be killing me, knowing my luck. There was a swollen, bloody ring around my calf, and two around my right wrist, a few trailing up the insides of my arms, and many on my abdomen and legs. He once tried my lips, and that was so painful I wept the entire time. He quickly figured out he couldn't put me in too much pain, or nothing would ever come out of me. But the questions he asked me, I knew none of them. His favourite one was "What is the Assassin planning?" but I didn't know. It's been weeks, how would I know? Things would change every day with him, I had no hope of keeping up. He stuck me with a knife twice, in the same place so the wound would reopen. That hurt a lot.

Now here he was again, opening the cell and setting forth inside with his hawk-like gaze over me, ever watchful. I didn't bother to change how I was sitting, slumped against the wall nursing a cut on my hip. I couldn't, no, wouldn't meet his gaze, one of my eyes puffy and sore around the edges. My clothes were torn to shreds, so it was a wonder I was covered up at all. The old wound-cleaner left. He stood over me, his hands over his hips. I didn't know what this meant, not one bit. It was a completely new behaviour.

"It seems that I'm going to leave today. I'm going to leave you in the capable hands of a friend of mine, but please, dear, do well to not forget me, for we might meet again, and I look forward to the stories you will tell next time." and he kicked over the candle, which didn't even sizzle. Taking his time to lock the door, he left me alone in the dark. All I wanted was the sun, I missed it like air. Or real food; there was such a horrible limit on how much hot food people had here, it was only for dinner, and I hadn't tried the pasta in the thieves guild. My stomach didn't growl anymore; hard bread didn't even begin to fill you up, but if nothing else did, your stomach shrinks. It was going to hurt to try to eat again.

On god, everything hurt. It hurt to breathe, to eat, drink, think, move. And the dark just completely enveloped me like water, and I found, for a time, I was drowning. I kept on turning ideas over and over in my head, of how there was going to be a huge heroic rescue, and I'd come home and people would clap for my return. I'd see Rosa and Ugo, and everyone would just be happy. That would be beautiful. Instead I spent a long, long time, probably more than three days, without food. Nobody came in, so I was left completely to my own devices. Until I heard it.

I never realized I could hear the hum of the city life just outside this building until now, and people were screaming. Something was wrong, but I couldn't even press my ear against the wall to check. Instead, I stayed still and stinted my breathing so I could hear what they were saying. "Demon!" "Bird!" "Flying!" But this didn't tell me anything. What could possibly be a big, bird-like—

Oh my. No way. There was no way. He hadn't seriously. Goddamn it, Leonardo, you will be the death of him one day.

I froze, listening for anything, but all I could hear were the screams out on the street. I waited, a few moments passing, but nothing. But then people on the inside began to scream, yelling death threats. I smiled, but the pain made tears well up. He was here; Ezio was here. He was coming for me. I sniffled, and jumped considerably as the door crashed down, but it wasn't Ezio. He looked just like a normal guard, with the helmet and armor. Only, he had his sword drawn. Something made me sit up a little straighter. He left the door open, probably so he could see, and clambered down the steps toward me, slowly, with my eyes on him for every second of it.

He threw open my cell door, and approached, as menacing as ever. I didn't even know this guy.

"You knew he was coming." he said, his sword's point resting on my chest, right on my sternum. I shook my head.

"You liar!" he yelled, pressing harder on my chest until it was beyond painful. Tears spilled over, but he didn't cease.

"Tell me what else the assassin has planned!" he removed the blade from my chest and I whimpered, instead placing it on my neck so he could have his face inches from mine. I shook my head furiously. To my surprise, he dropped the sword.

"Fine. If you won't tell me his secrets, you can show me yours, you _puttana."_ He yanked me away from the wall, until I was flat on my back. I tried to squirm, to fight, anything, but he was bigger and stronger, and he had been fed this week. He had one hand on my thigh, a place I really didn't like. I kneed him in the face, clean and easy, and curled up in a ball.

"You— I'm going to make you beg for your life to end!" and pulled on the chain that connected me to the wall. When I didn't budge, he yanked with enough force to pull a tractor. I screamed a hoarse, raspy cry, and kicked my one free leg, but it did no good. He was moving ever-closer, I didn't even notice the silhouette that quickly and quietly appeared in the doorway, a blade shining in his hand. Just before the man had me completely naked, a hand appeared on his shoulder, sending him sprawling in the completely opposite direction to me. I returned my knees to my chest and moved as far from the door as possible, every part of me in pain.

He tried to regain his footing, but someone who looked remarkably like a dream threw him against the iron bars of the cell opposite mine. The whole wall shook, and Ezio began to yell. It was a fucking heavenly sound.

"If you ever, EVER touch a woman again, I will see to it that you die an incredible death, your extremities yards from you before you die!" and then Ezio composed himself. He looked around thoughtfully.

"Or, perhaps I'll leave you in here, to live with your actions forever. It can get awful cold at night." Oh how well I knew that. Ezio threw the guard into the cell opposite mine, taking the chain off the wall and clicking it around the man's neck. He stopped for a moment, and I couldn't see what he was doing, but the man exhibited a small amount of pain, and fell in a heap on the floor. Ezio paid no more attention to him.

He turned to me. I didn't know if he could see my eyes, but I was beginning to tear up. He had come for me. He opened the door, and approached me, neither of us breaking the eye contact. He didn't say anything, I could barely even hear him breathing. But slowly, he came to kneel down in front of me, with one hand stretched out in front of him like there was an invisible wall. I could see a white sparkle in his eye.

"Are you... Are you... How are you?" he sounded so far from eloquent, but it was just so wonderful. He was so wonderful. And he was here. Finally. I tried to move, but only whimpered in response. Someone ran past the doorway, filling the room with echoes of feet on pavement, and Ezio snapped to attention. He turned back to me.

"We need to get you out of here." and he reached for my ankle, but at first, I flinched away from him. He took the less sore half of my face in his palm, and told me to trust him. I did trust him, with everything I had. But it just scared me. He traced the chain back to the wall. The man in the other cell was still groaning. I pulled on Ezio's sleeve, and showed him the little hole the key went into. I'd spent so long feeling around for some kind of escape. So long.


	18. Chapter 18

He told me to keep still, even though I was shivering like hell, from both shock and the cold. I didn't know what he was going to do until he flicked out his hidden blade straight into the keyhole. It shattered under the force, and underneath, my ankle was red and the skin broken. It was almost refreshing to have the cool air on my skin, but I wasn't given time to adjust to it. Ezio attempted to pull me to my feet, but it failed because most of my clothing was ripped enough to simply fall away.

He took off his outer most layer of robes and gave me something to wear. It wasn't something I'd wear every day, but it smelled like him and it covered me up, which was all I needed. I could barely walk. I'd spent the last however long here, cowering in the dark waiting for a hero while a man with a hood cut holes in my arms. It suddenly struck me how weak it made me feel to know that. He had to carry me, and even then it was uncomfortable. I curled up against his chest and he cradled me closely. I wanted to cry right there and then, but I just had to stay strong. Just for a little while longer.

He took me out, and into the light, and I inhaled deeply. I couldn't see anything for a long while after that. Ezio didn't seem to come across any trouble for a while, so I just closed my eyes—

"Stay awake, Abigail." he urged me, softly, quietly, in my ear. A short, high pitched whistle sounded. "Please just stay awake. We are almost there. " And then he spoke to someone nearby. Told them to get a doctor. Told them it was urgent. Waves rolled over me, and for a moment everything was unbearably hot, and I had to hope that Ezio heard me when I asked him to put me down for a moment. At first, he didn't, but then I began to wriggle. Something about this felt completely wrong, and he set me down on the ground, leaning me on the fence-like wall that separated us from the canal.

My stomach lurched, over and into the canal, but nothing came out. I was shaking, all of me, I just couldn't stop, and Ezio could do nothing. It scared me how close things had been. I let myself lean down over the fence, my face reflecting in the canal. The brick was nice and cool against my face, and I just laid there. Ezio had his hands on my back, and before too long, we continued on back. I was still shaking, even in his arms.

My eyes stayed closed, but god help me, I couldn't sleep. I lost sense of time, but not once did I lose him. Even when Ezio tried to set me down on my bed, I couldn't let go of him. And he stayed, and for a time, I just cried into his chest, until I stopped shaking and I'd been worn out completely. Ezio just sat there stroking my face, but stopped for a moment when someone appeared at the door.

"Abigail, calm down. It's okay. You're safe now. Open your eyes." And I did.

The room was more inviting than I remember, the bed like a big, fluffy cloud, and I was just floating. My wounds were pulsating, and I moved uncomfortably. There was a burn mark on my back, and a few cuts; they were literally everywhere. There was no way I could lay that was completely comfortable. A doctor, tall thin and in a long mask, stood in the doorway with a thief by his side. Ezio was looking straight into my eyes the entire time, and it almost frightened me how seriously his gaze was.

"What seems to be the problem?" the doctor asked, and Ezio answered. I had wounds everywhere. I moved the robes so he could see my cuts and bruises without seeing everything else, and for the first time, I noticed how thin I was. I hadn't eaten, yes, but I didn't think it would have that much of an effect. My elbows and knees poked up underneath my skin, distinctly. Ezio sat next to me the entire time, holding my hand and never letting go.

And the doctor worked, cleaning the cuts with something that stung horribly. With the cigarette-sized burns, he covered them in an ointment and wrapped me in bandages. It was surprisingly advanced, I thought, considering the era. There were still a few things these people had yet to discover, and yes, band aids were definitely one of them. I rolled over and Ezio pulled down the robes so you could see my shoulder blades, and two fine slices. One he insisted had to be sewn, so I cried a little more while he stuck a needle in my back countless times with a fine thread. The burn, lower down and just behind my hip, he dressed, and I tried to roll over.

"Stay still. Don't lie down on your back for at least two hours. My work here is finished; replace the bandages every morning, and don't allow your wounds to get wet. Good luck, _madonna_." The doctor told me, bowing his head, so I sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, my feet dangling limply over the side. Ezio left for a minute, probably to see the doctor out, while I played with Ezio's robes draped loosely around my body. I needed some clothes. And I was done with pants; I had heard too many remarks about wearing man's clothes, I just couldn't.

So I tried the dresses I owned, having to lean against the wall to try the meagre two or three stashed in the back of the grand wardrobe. Ezio was behind me, I knew it, and when I turned to face him, he was staring straight at me. He looked odd without his outer layer; he looked almost normal, if there weren't weapons on his every limb. I mean, yes, there were a fair few men carrying around weapons, but the limit was normally a single sword anyway, and it was because they had business with danger in some way, shape or form.

I didn't even say anything, I stared at Ezio, and for only a moment, he stared back.

"None of my dresses fit." I complained as I scrambled over to the bedside again.

"Would you like us to visit the tailor? We could have new ones made if you preferred."

"No thank you. I'd rather not leave this room. Not for a while, at least." I looked to the window, looking out at the people going about their business. But none of them had any idea what I'd just gone through. People will be able to look at my face and see scars but they will never know why I have them. How I did nothing to deserve them. We fell silent.

"Abigail… what happened?" he was pained, I could tell. Something rose up in me then, a horribly dark emotion. I turned to him, though, without any expression on my face.

"They wanted to use me, to find you. They didn't even care about me but they wanted you. They still do." And I looked down to the ground. I wasn't even important, yet people were able to inflict pain because I was an easy way to get what they wanted. And I never told them anything. They always asked what Ezio was planning, when he'd be somewhere and when, but not once did I know the answer. The memory made the pain, the burning, the cuts resurface and I had to squeeze my eyes to push them away. They barely budged.

"I—" but right then, he took my face in his palms and leant his forehead against mine, and I could swear, right then he could see everything inside me, my heart and my soul and everything else that there ever was. And all I could think of was how close his lips were, not five centimetres away.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I never meant for this, any of this. Every day I go out and I kill someone's husband, son, father, but never have I been so afraid as I was for the past month. I—"

"Wait, a month? I was gone for a month! What the hell did you do for the past four weeks while I was rotting in a dungeon getting cut open like a—"

"Do you know how hard I searched for you? I turned back not two minutes after I walked away, and you were gone. Do you know how long I spent waiting, wondering if you'd show up. I made Antonio send his people everywhere, every road from here to Florence. I tortured innocent men who'd only been following orders. And when I did, I literally _flew_ over there." He was almost yelling now, something I hadn't really seen him do before.

I'd gathered as much from the "flying demon" people had screamed about outside my prison. But goddamn it, Ezio was crazy, and I owed him for this. And I'd just wrecked a perfect moment with my temper having raised its ugly head. I winced.

"Right. I'm sorry. I just… it hurt. I never really understood pain, and now I have to live with the constant reminder that someone else was looking for you. They didn't even care about me, I was just an easy way out. I can still feel the chunk of metal he placed on my skin. I can still feel it." And I finished with barely more than a whisper. Ezio was at the window sill, listening.

I was so hungry my stomach no longer grumbled. A short rap at the door, and Ezio moved to open it, covering his empty hand in a silver plate. I watched him pull up a table to the bedside, and a chair, and he set the plate in front of me.

"It's going to make you feel sick when you begin to eat again, but I'll be here. Try to eat."

"I'm not hungry." But he pushed the plate closer toward me. I pulled off the lid, and tried to comprehend what I was seeing; food, colourful and beautiful and steaming with warmth and ugh. I started with a piece of broccoli and worked my way slowly through it. My stomach, at first, made me want to throw up, and Ezio held a pot open for me. He emptied it, and came back to sit beside me, rubbing my back gently, sending tingles up and down my spine.

As if he didn't love me. I refused to believe that he didn't love me. If I wasn't weary, and in pain, and hadn't all these damn wounds, I'd be kissing him so fiercely. But the stitches on my back prevented me from turning to face him. And I was still afraid. God, I didn't have any idea how I was going to sleep that night. On my own, at least.


	19. Chapter 19

**I'm so glad you guys like this. ;_; I don't know what I'd do if you guys didn't (probably discontinue, get a job, get out of the house)! But that's okay. Enjoy. :3  
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I didn't sleep that night. I never screamed, not once, but I'd wake up because one of my stitches twinged or I saw the same hooded man's eyes with a blade still in his hand. Once it was even the soldier, and the look in his eye that told me I was going to suffer. For a lot of the time, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't speak, I could barely cry. I'd turn the pillow over and there wouldn't be a cold side. I continually rolled over, again and again until—

Doosh. I hit the floor with my hip and shoulder. It knocked the wind out of me, and I just moved onto my back, breathing shallowly until I slowed. I needed help; I couldn't do this on my own. I stumbled for my door, using the walls as support, and knocked on the door beside mine. I was just so tired. Ezio answered quicker than I would have thought.

"Abigail, is everything alright?" he asked quietly. His words seemed to echo out into the emptiness of the Della Seta.

"I can't sleep. I keep on seeing things, and people and I just can't—" my voice had risen to the brink of hysteria. Ezio quieted me before I started to cry.

"Then stay here. Come, you look so tired." And he let me lay in his bed beside him, with my head on his chest, and again it struck me, _how could this not be love?_ But he said nothing. I could feel his warmth through his tunic, and the world began to go dark. Sleep was nearly with me, and for a moment, I wasn't quite sure whether I said it out loud or not, but I could hear in my mind, just thinking "I love you" before I drifted off. I really hoped that I hadn't said it out loud.

I slept for a long time, dark and heavy, and there was no one there when I woke up. I pulled up the covers around my shoulders and rolled over, wincing at the pain. One thing I'd noticed was that the cuts had mostly closed. There was only the occasional wound that wasn't closed; don't get me wrong, they weren't healed yet, but they weren't spurting blood and gore anymore. I was thankful.

I got up, and moved around, the sun telling me it was almost midday. My back was sore, my limbs aching. And my stomach; I was hungry. I checked outside the room to make sure no one would see me, and made a quick hop into mine. I closed the door quietly behind me, and sighed. I don't know what people would say if they saw me come out of Ezio's room. If only it were for the reasons people would assume.

I dressed in a now-loose-fitting dress with some difficulty, and combed my hair back. It was turning a lighter brown, with a horrible wavy kink in it. I'd given myself the occasional haircut over the past couple years, so it didn't look its best right now. I simply threw it over my shoulder as it was, barely brushing it completely through, and strode out my door and down the stairs.

I had to pull my dress a little bit tighter around myself, because it felt like it was going to fall apart. It wasn't completely quiet like the night before, and I relished gladly in the noise. I halted in the doorway, though, and for a moment, pondered. I had no idea where I planned to go. I looked around for a moment, behind me, in front of me, until my eyes focused in on Ezio through a window. It was Antonio's office, and for a moment, I just stopped and sighed. Then, I marched straight for the door, not even pausing when I caught his eye through the window. He'd stepped toward the door, trying to open it for me, but I got there first and he sort of just looked at me awkwardly mid-stride with one hand out in front of him. Antonio greeted me, seeming slightly more caring now that I'd spent a month keeping his secrets. Painfully. I tried to suppress my bitter feelings.

"Do you mind if I have a word?" I looked toward Ezio. He'd regained his composure, and nodded, moving to step out of the room. I made sure Antonio know that we'd only be a minute. I followed Ezio out and closed the door. We turned a corner, into the shadow of the Della Seta and it's few depths. I noticed his eyes raking over my frame, taking in everything. Now, there was significantly less to take in. I didn't wait for eye contact.

"I'd like to go into town…" I said. Well, it wasn't really _town_ but it was shopping and food and people and that was good enough for me. "But I'd rather not go on my own. When will you be free?" I asked, jerking my head in Antonio's direction. He nodded his head.

"Give me five minutes. You can sit in if you like." But I shook my head violently and told him I'd wait in my room. He took much longer than five minutes, and for each moment I sat and shivered as the open window allowed the cold to crawl up and under my skin and lace through my bones. I shivered, the tingles reaching the edge of my spine. I closed the window, and moved away; I could hear Ezio's footsteps, and then the door creaking open.

He didn't even say something, and I didn't really either. He walked beside me down the steps, and for a moment, I closed my eyes, hoping that I'd get more sleep tonight. My back protested with every step I took, between the cuts behind my shoulders and the finger-length burn on the small of my back, and for a moment I had to slow down. Ezio wasn't looking at me but I knew that he was paying attention to everything that I do. I didn't even make it down the rest of the flight of stairs, I just had to stop.

"Maybe you shouldn't go anywhere today." He said, and with my eyes squeezed shut, I nodded. I waited until the pain in my back faded, and I slowly turned around and walked up the stairs. Ezio's hand hovered behind me, not quite touching but I could still feel his presence there. It began to hurt again, worse this time, and I winced with every step. God, my pain tolerance had sure gone down since the last time I was here.

Ezio closed the door behind me, while I fell down on my bed, face first, and groaned. Ezio linked his hand through mine and squeezed. I propped my head up so I could see straight forward, and groaned again. My feet started to get cold, hanging over the edge like they were. It really didn't matter what century you were in; if you were miserable, this was definitely the done thing. I thought I heard Ezio try to convince me to get up off the bed, because shortly after, when I didn't reply, he picked me up—I didn't understand how he was so strong, because he was only a year or two older than me, and already he was like this—and tried to awkwardly set me down face up.

I tried to make it easier for him, but he just kept an emotion-less face like always, so I just gave up. Something right there, something clicked inside me. Something that turned off rationality. I was sore all over. I was miserable, I was even a little bit hungry, but the last thing I wanted was for him to leave. Not ever. And when he was there, heading for the door because he thought all I needed to was be left alone, I found a hidden strength that I never really knew I had.

He heard me get up off the bed, and turned to face me, and I went for the front of his shirt and just pulled him in toward me. And I got on the tips of my toes and pulled his face down to meet mine. And for how I felt, the way that instead of pulling back and looking at me like I was crazy, instead, he kissed me back with an intensity like wildfire.

My heart was thudding in my chest; I couldn't make sense of this. He pulled back, and for a moment, I was scared. I just looked into his eyes and he looked straight back. And there was nothing, no one said anything. I counted off the seconds, one, two, three, nine, ten, until finally he kissed me again. I staggered back two steps, until there was the slight knock of the bed on the backs of my legs.

His hands were on either sides of my face, warm and wonderful and they made my heart melt. At first, I just wanted to pull him closer, but then, he pushed me away.

Onto the bed.

Alarm bells in every part of my body screamed at me. No. Get out of there.

And my back screamed at me; there was this awful stretching feeling between my shoulders, right over my cuts, and I could swear I could feel one of them splitting open. I whimpered.

"Wait, Ezio…" he was leaning over me, with his face lined up straight with mine. If he cried, his tears would fall literally into my eyes. He froze as soon as I said it.

"I'm sorry, I…" he began, already backtracking. He looked abashed, like he was a child who'd been caught trying to sneak a chocolate bar into the shopping trolley. Standing up briskly, helping me to my feet. I grabbed for the front of his shirt, I wanted him close.

"It's okay." I smiled at him. He set his forehead against mine, and his hands wove around my back, gently, ever so gently.

"I love you." he whispered. My eyes looked straight into his, and for a moment, things couldn't be more perfect. I'd never expected it to be like this; I expected a big, dramatic screaming match where he'd shut me up by kissing me. Then it occurred to me, that sounded an awful lot like the Notebook. I cursed internally. I couldn't even say the words back, couldn't form them in my mouth. When I tried to, they croaked out of my throat, and for a moment my cheeks were bright rouge. He lifted one hand and placed it on my cheek, for a second I was dizzy, but it passed.

He kissed me again, and that's all we did. But I was glad. I couldn't do the things he had in mind. I could barely lie down as it was, so this was nice. He moved his other hand up my back, but froze when he got to the space between my shoulder blades. His hand lingered there, and then he pulled away.

"Did you know you're bleeding?" he asked me, looking down at his hand. I followed his line of and saw that it wasn't a little bit of blood. His hand was covered; the back of my dress must've been soaked. I tried to put a hand behind me, but whimpered at the attempt. Ezio took his not-bloody hand and held it under my chin, looking me closely in the eye, searching for something. Then, I felt it again.


	20. Chapter 20

**20****TH**** CHAPTER. FUCK YEAH GUYS~!**

This time, the dizziness washed over me like a tidal wave, and I had to grab Ezio's shoulder to stay afloat. He put his arms around me and led me around to the edge of the bed.

"Lie down on your stomach." he asked me, and left the room. Even though I was upset, I complied. When Ezio returned, he sat down a bowl with water and a rag.

"...Um, do you mind?" he sounded hesitant. I nodded, and he pulled on the long cords that kept the material stuck to my body. He peeled away soaked layers of ruined dress, until my back was bear. I didn't know the extent of the damage, but I whimpered every time the rag touched my scars. It must've reopened like I thought. I sighed into the pillow. Would I ever get a break?

"When you are healed, then we'll talk." he said, almost guessing my thoughts. I didn't want to wait; I didn't want to have bandages everywhere, over my wrists and arms legs. This was horrible.

"Can we practise in the rink in a couple minutes?" I asked him, stumping whatever train of thought he might have. I glanced up at him and he had this kind of face that matched exactly what he said.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Abigail. This needs to heal." he sounded like a parent right then.

"Then burn it like you burned my shoulder. How's it different this time?" and he glowered at me coldly, raising one eyebrow.

"It'll hurt..." he began.

"It'll heal." I retorted. And that settled it. He told me to sit up straight, and I did. I held my hair back, far from the flame. I had to squeeze my eyes shut, the pain was unbearable. It reminded me of the night in San Gimignano, I had fought hard until I could no longer walk. The memory set my resolve, hard in stone. None of this wussy, princess-like bullshit. I was going to harden up, and be deadly, just like Ezio. Maybe worse.

But he didn't know what I was thinking, he knew that my loud gasps had turned to barely whimpers as he worked over my back. Of course, he couldn't burn a burn wound closed, so he left it alone.

And it was done. I laid in bed on my side while Ezio cleaned up, move things out, set the chair back by the window. I stayed there for a while thinking, planning what I'd do next, how I'd become feared, like Ezio. My dress was laying limply around my body, just covering everything. He didn't seem to notice, he just laid down across from me, checking to make sure I was okay. I smiled weakly at him.

"Ezio, I had a thought..." he listened without speaking.

"Maybe I should return to Monteriggioni. Heal somewhere safe, for a time. Just until I feel better." He weighed the words, listening, thinking. I think a part of him was disappointed; you'd think so, considering he'd already declared his love for me.

"We wouldn't see eachother, not for years at a time." he said. I pursed my lips.

"Maybe that would be healthy. Not because of you or I, but because of what's happening here. I can't continually be used as a pawn, and you... well, you can't really afford distractions, can you?" he sighed in resignation. Defeat.

"Perhaps I could accompany you back."

"But what if you're needed here? No, I could not take you. I'll ask Antonio if he has a thief to spare."

"They won't need me. They did perfectly fine before, they can do so again."

"Okay."

"When would you like to leave?"

"Tomorrow. At first light."

And we did. Ezio spent the remainder of the day gathering things, going to the market; he bought me a new dress and my very own blade, especially good for throwing. Two small throwing knives, and we took two horses, one he kept all of our things on, even though it wasn't a packhorse, and we rode together on the other. He was worried about my cut; it was sealed shut yes, but that didn't stop it from splitting. We took a boat, shared a room, and from Forli we went through the mountains—I noticed the bridge they'd tried to collapse was still standing. By nightfall, we were still a fair way through the mountain path, at least over half way through the path. By the next day, we'd be in Florence, and the next after that, Monteriggioni. Normally it took four days, but Ezio knew shortcuts, and was in a hurry.

We camped out of sight of the road, but we could still hear everything that happened on the road. Ezio didn't appear to sleep much. He would lie behind me and put an arm around me, but never did he really shut his eyes.

We reached Florence at the end of the second day, and Ezio told me we'd stay in a home tonight. I wasn't really sure what he meant, because we didn't really know anyone in Florence, now that I thought about it. The sun was just going down as the walls of Florence loomed up over us. There were guards posted at the gate, that nodded at us as we made our way through, into the city. Gas lamps hung high on the walls, making passage easier but not without effort altogether. There was something beautifully familiar about the place; it was here I found myself on the first occasion I'd been to Italy, and it was a rather unexpected journey at that. I can't remember what happened exactly; I spent alot of time wondering, but I could never remember. There was the sound of a car flying past, but I could barely see, because the light was so bright. I just looked up into the sun and for a moment I seemed to lose a sense of everything around me. I stumbled, and then hit the wall, and it wasn't red brick like it had been before. It was warmer, I couldn't say what material exactly, but it was bigger and less precisely cut and that's the first thing I thought when I arrived here. If only i had've known.

There wasn't much in the way of people. Most were just arriving home and turning out the lights within their houses—well, they were candles but they made the windows glow like there were lights. We pushed on, and for a moment I had a hint of clarity as to where I was. A shop selling maps had closed down for the night, but I knew it well. We made one unfamiliar turn, and came to a door. Wrought iron, and inside a small courtyard, almost completely hollowing out the building. Ezio looked around for a moment becore wrapping both hands around two bars and pushing. The screech of metal could've woken the dead. I winced, and looked behind us. No one was there.

I turned back, and Ezio ushered me into the courtyard, maybe ten metres in width, now that i could see past the door. He slammed the outer door shut with a forceful clang and left it to rattle, leading me to one of three wooden doors in the courtyard. From the outside, the house looked pretty dark and foreboding—it was obvious that no one was living here—but even though, there was something of history behind these walls. It probably looked gorgeous in the sunlight.

Ezio led me down the halls—it was quite grand in size, with furniture obviously missing, and with sheets on others. /So, I thought, this really is a century-old remedy for dust. I smiled wickedly at the thought, and carried on, trailing behind Ezio, turning a corner only once, before he approached the set of stairs. I followed him up, and into the first door on the right, a small bedroom, roughly three metres by four.

He lit a candle and pulled off the sheet, revealing a rich, red duvet, and golden-wreathed framework. We slept beside one another, and the night passed uneventfully. In fact, we reached Monteriggioni without event. My wounds were gradually healing; the cuts circling my wrists were scabbing over, but the swipes along my back remained, and I couldn't exactly judge the progress with that. And now, Monteriggioni was bubbling with life in comparison to how we'd left it. There was now a healer, and the blacksmith was working on an order. A woman was purchasing something from the tailor. I smiled at a passer-by and he smiled back at me. This place felt even more at home than anywhere I'd ever been in the last five years or however many. I'd really lost count.

We didn't stop for anything, and soon enough Claudia was rushing out to meet us. Even the villa itself appeared to have had a bit of work done on its aesthetics—it was looking much nicer than the last time I'd seen it. Mario followed her and Ezio's mother too. She didn't really spend much time talking to me, none of them did. All eyes were on Ezio. Except for Mario; he noticed my injuries almost immediately, but neglected to say anything until the fairer folk were gone. Claudia was insistent that we come in for tea, so I pushed Ezio after them. Mario held me outside for a moment, not that anyone noticed, and I interrupted whatever he was going to say with a wave of my hand and a quiet "Later." His brow furrowed, but he followed everyone into the study, me trailing behind him.

Of course, the two women's faces darkened when Ezio told them he'd have to leave as early as tomorrow, but they still went on, for hours, I think. Maria's face lit up at the mention of Leonardo, and it occurred to me how much Ezio was protecting them. Not even physically, but by what he was saying. There's a good chance they had no idea the extent of what was going on; hell, even I didn't understand completely. I just knew that it was right. The feeling, that knowledge, it extended from the tips of my toes to the end of every strand of hair.


	21. Chapter 21

**Thankyou guys for the support! Hah, I have no idea when I'm gonna wrap this story up, to be honest, so I think I might write another afterwards. Different character, same idea. Maybe start again with Altaïr. Let me know what you think. (; **

We stayed together for a while, talking deep into the night. It was cold, but really, it was easy to simply revel in being here. To be surrounded by these people, it just made me happy. Because we could forget about things, everything. As it got later into the night, a few of my old friends, mercenaries, joined us. I drank excessive amounts of alcohol, starting only after Maria and Claudia had gone to bed, and it got to the point where I was laughing so hard at a story one of the guys told me that I nearly threw up.

Ezio brought over a plate of food and we huddled around the fire. I'd noticed he hadn't come even close to me when his mother and sister were nearby. Even with Mario around he hadn't. It occurred to me that I should ask, and so I got up out of my chair and took a couple steps forward, closer to the fire. I stopped, because I felt a little bit queasy and then went to sit back down. The thought didn't even occur to me that my chair wasn't where I thought it was, because I went to sit down, I missed and fell back against the floor. Another roar of laughter sounded and I just lay flat on my back, laughing hysterically.

My sides heaved painfully with the laughter, and my jaw turned saw for having laughed so hard. I rolled onto my side, tears streaming, before I managed to collect myself enough to sit up. There were only about five of us, and then there was Ezio, and I'm pretty sure one of the guys was passed out drunk in his chair. I couldn't remember what I was going to do just three seconds before. Everything was a little bit hazy, and I think I was at that stage between tipsy and drunk, only just.

I stumbled back to my chair and sat down, everyone's attention already enraptured in someone else's stories. Again, the laughter picked up, and the night carried on. It was probably an hour or two before first light, and just thinking of that caused a loud, unforgiving yawn to take me over. I decided to head to bed, standing up and swaying on the spot while I told everyone goodnight. I tried to march between mine and the next person's chair, but I tripped and fell, giggling madly all the while.

Warm hands helped me back up, and I realized it was Ezio, laughing and smiling that absolutely gorgeous smile, who was helping me along. We were around the back of the villa, so we went through the foyer, my giggles bouncing off the walls. Ezio had to quiet me one, two, three times, and had to practically pull me up the stairs, but I did make it to my room eventually. He opened the door, and I stumbled onto my bed, giggling all the while. He fell down with me onto the bed, and it occurred to me that I hadn't seen him drink at all.

He almost got up to leave, but instead I kissed him. He kissed back, but pulled away after a minute. I giggled and asked him to stay, and for a moment he just kissed me again. He was leaning completely over me, so I wrapped my legs around his waist and tried to flip him over, and he let me. Now I was in charge. He obliged, and woah, was I happy. But when I started to try removing his robes. Once he realized what I was doing, he rolled us over again, and for a moment, excitement built up inside me. But then he stopped.

He pinned my hands on either side of my head, and moved his mouth to my ear.

"If you think this is going to happen while you're drunk, you're seriously mistaken." He whispered, and at first, I didn't understand completely. But then I moaned because ultimately, this meant he was going to leave now. I tried to kiss him again but he was just out of my reach, and no matter what I did, he wouldn't let me move.

"Abigail," he said in probably the most disapproving tone, ever. "You _know_ you'd regret it. Come on, just calm down a minute."

"No I wouldn't!" I moaned loudly, and put out my lower lip. He laughed at my attempt, and kissed my nose, ending the conversation.

"Now are you going to get to sleep, or do I have to stay here to make sure you don't run off trying to seduce the next man who comes along? I doubt they'd have as much self-control as I." he teased.

"Please, _man?_ You're like, 20." I giggled.

"25, actually. That does make me a man, my dear. Normally a man of my age should have had a wife for a long time now. You should be having your second child." And it completely outraged me. It just filled me with this anger that completely and utterly consumed me. It _might_have been the alcohol talking.

"Just because you're completely unable of looking after yourself does _not_ make me responsible for looking after your household. Or _anyone's_ for that matter. Don't you dare even insinuate—"

"—What? That you're female? That's your job, Abigail. That is how it's always been, so unless you'd like to have your non-existent family force you into a crusade against true evil, please just do what you're told, like you should." And that stung. I struggled to get out of his grip and he let go, gladly. For a moment he just stood over me, looking angry. And he tried to come near me again but I just shoved him away. Told him to get out. Slammed the door in his face and fell asleep crying because he'd completely ruined my mood. There was no way I was going to forgive him for that any time soon. And my wrists began to ache.

Nightmares gripped me from the moment I slept. I suppose I didn't really sleep. I woke up just as the sky began to lighten, and tried to fall asleep again. I woke up not half an hour later. After a third try, I decided to watch the sun rise. From the front of the villa, right up on the eastern wall that ran around the city, I sat on the ledge and watched. I noticed too, my head seemed to throb with a pain that could only be associated with a hangover, but regardless, sunrise has always been one of my favourite parts of the day; I'd always be too tired for discernible thoughts, but it didn't really take any kind of thought to watch something beautiful. And it was quite beautiful.

When the entire diameter of the sun was in sight, and I was bathing in gorgeously warm light, I could hear voices, coming from the villa. I turned, but didn't move, to see Mario raise his hand to Ezio's shoulder, and Ezio did the same. They bowed their heads for a moment, and Ezio broke away, heading for the only gate in and out of the city. Maybe ten minutes later, I noticed him riding past the wall I was sitting on, but he didn't look up. _That's odd,_ I thought. I couldn't tell why.

I don't think I bothered to move for about two hours, or at least it felt like two hours. I had all these thoughts going over in my head, until finally I got stuck on Ezio's words from the night before. I practically marched into Mario's office, while he hunched over the desk, seemingly having trouble with a book. He looked up at my noisy approach, huge questions in his eyes.

"Teach me." I said. I almost spat the words with my rage, but I didn't mean to be rude to him.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Teach me the way you taught him. Show me why, how, what." And there was something there which told me that he knew exactly what I was talking about. His hands looked down to my wrists, flicked from wound to wound that was visible. I don't know why he was so easy to convince, but he simply sighed with defeat, and closed the book in front of him, moving to place it back on the shelf, and moved to pick another.

Only instead of pulling a book out, the book case gave way, and I recognised this. _That's what he didn't want me to find!_ I yelled internally. I'd accidentally opened this once.

And he explained, right from the beginning. The Mark of Cain, and his brother Abel. Alexander the Great. He spoke about Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, how he had held an Apple of Eden that Eve had supposedly taken from the tree. People, hundreds, thousands of them, during the ages who continued this never ending struggle to fight for beliefs. Even the Crucifixion of Christ himself; it was all to find the various Pieces of Eden.

He explained what a Piece of Eden was, though all he really knew was of its power, and how people bent on creating a "perfect world" through means the Templars planned on using, should not be allowed to wield such powers. He moved away from the door, off to find a scroll, without noticing how desperately I wanted to go down into the secret chamber. It had kept me up at night because I just never knew what it was. He read out:

"_This... piece of silver cast out Adam and Eve. It turned staves into snakes. Parted and closed the Red Sea. Eris used it to start the Trojan War; and with it, a poor carpenter turned water into wine." _And it occurred to me that I recognised a few of those references. Parted the red sea… isn't that like, the story of Moses? And the Trojan War I was familiar with. But water into wine… that was Jesus Christ. I hunched against the wall and crossed my arms, taking it in. Mario approached me, and we went down into the cellar.

Turning a corner twice, three times, the room opened up from the narrow passageway into a huge, gorgeous chamber. Mario called it the "Sanctuary." It was bigger than Mario's study, about the same height but much, much larger. There was a statue locked away in the middle, surrounded by iron bars and lock-like mechanisms, each with an emblem engraved into a round, stone plate. Only one was retracted. There were statues, six unlocked in all lined up against the far wall, each with a circular plate placed at about head height from me. The circular plates on the statues and the cage were the same. Perhaps the statues were keys of some kind.

Mario explained, each of these showed the nature of the assassin they stood in front of; a key element of their existence that made their mark. I noticed one of them had a wine bottle, and thought how he must've partied real hard. But some of them were different; the guy on the left with a hidden blade had his circular plate thicker than the rest, and upon closer inspection, I realized it had a whole new piece that went on top. That was the key. That was how you opened it. And that was how you got into the cage, that I just realized had a large set of armour in front of it. Pretty dusty, but I bet with a little polish, it would've shined like a diamond.

He made a point to mention that the caged statue was Altaïr. I took a good look at the statue, and noticed he had a faint scar across his lip in the same place. It held an uncanny resemblance to Ezio, and unwanted feelings grew in my gut. I turned to him.

"So why are you still fighting? Why can't you just hit them all in one go and eliminate the threat forever?" I asked.

"Because we can't. For the same reason they can't. We, both of us, have been around for a long time. We're spread all over the world, as they are, only, they're more powerful. While we sneak in the shadows, they walk in the light, causing heads to turn at them as they go. I've heard whispers of the pope having ties to some of the people here. The Spaniard appears to be up to worse tricks." The word _Spaniard_ seemed to tickle something in my memory.

"Why can't we be in power too?" he smiled at me.

"Don't you think it's easier to get around when your enemy doesn't know who to look for?" Huh. That is actually a really sensible idea. Okay, maybe it would be easier. But they still had whole armies at their fingertips if they were bothered enough to extend their hands. I didn't conjure up a reply, so we gestured to the stairs and we began to climb in silence.

"I want to learn to fight." I told him. I could feel his disapproving gaze on my face as I walked beside him. But I think he knew that I'd argue, _really_ argue.

"But first you'll have to give up the alcohol."

"Done." And he raised his eyebrow at me.

"And exercise?" he prompted. This time, I hesitated.

"Done."

"You do realize that means running?" and I just yelled, very loudly, in English,

"_SHIT." _And he laughed with raised brows.

"Okay, fine. But I want to be working every day. I want to even learn another language on top of it. Do you actually _know_ another language?" I asked him.

"I know that Ezio learned French from a maid they used to have some years ago, however no, I don't." And my brow furrowed again. I opened my mouth to ask another question, but he interrupted me.

"And no, we're not going to start today. For the moment, you can hear the stories. Tomorrow, when you're better rested, you can begin to go for a run, perhaps six laps around Monteriggioni itself."

"SIX?!"


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: So hey guys, I'm thinking of closing this story up soon. I've got nothing new! So if you don't want me to end it anytime soon, send in your ideas. Is there anything you want to see happen? Let me know before next week. (: x**

Well, I hate to say it, but I barely made it half way through the exercise. I pretty much collapse on my third time around. Mario was up against the gate on his horse, preparing to ward me off by chasing me, but I just fell to my knees completely. It was cold, yes, but I was sweating and just so hot, and the wind was so cold on my back.

I'd had to put on breeches this morning, because otherwise I would've frozen to death. I started the run shivering, and Mario had chased me around the first lap with his horse. He even said yesterday he wanted me rested. He then woke me up at the crack of dawn. I swore the whole way around the town. Literally. And it wasn't inside the walls, where there was some protection from the elements, he meant literally _around the town._ Following the path that dodged all the really big rocks, all the way around. I just cursed and cursed until I collapsed on the third lap.

Mario got off the horse and rushed over to me.

"Abigail, are you alright?" but I just groaned in response. He huffed and walked away. I looked up at him, as he led the horse back into the stables and walked back through the gates. For a minute I thought he was bluffing, but because he didn't come back, or at least peak his head around the corner, I had to follow him. My legs were aching and I was still having trouble breathing, but I clambered to my feet and jogged after him. Oh god, I hoped this was going to get easier.

So I did that, every day, whether it rained or shone. I cottoned on very quickly to the fact that he was avoiding the rink, but Mario let me do other things. I had to learn to jump on a horse remarkably fast, climb buildings, run on the ground and on rooftops; all quick methods of escape. It took me about a week to bring it up.

"So… when are we going to get the swords out?" and he looked at me with one eye brow raised. My eyes narrowed.

"What's the point in learning to escape if I'm never going to start a fight in the first place?"

"Why would you try to start a fight if you didn't know how to defend yourself?" I scowled in his general direction. He smiled at me.

"Besides, what if your weapon got knocked out of your hands and you were outnumbered?"

"I'd use my throwing knives."

"What if you didn't have _any_ weapons at all?"

"I'd… disarm one of my assailants." I'd seen Ezio do it.

"Do you actually know how to do that though?" Okay. Maybe he'd caught me there. I shook my head and furrowed my brow.

"So what do you do then? You escape. Climb a building, jump into the river. Anything it takes for you to leave them behind. Your safety is more important than taking another person's life." I drank it in. But Ezio took risks, didn't he? He basically flew a fucking kite over to rescue me. Wasn't that a serious risk to his safety?

"But Ezio—"

"But Ezio nothing, Abigail. He's years ahead of you, and very, very capable." and that ended it.

But we did begin to train, _really_ train after that. I would do my laps in the morning, rest for a time, and then Mario would bandage my wounds with an extra layer just in case, and then we'd muck around with the swords for a while. I wasn't very good with a long sword, because it was so heavy, so I had to start doing push ups and the like afterwards. And I was allowed to use a short sword, _my_ short sword that Ezio had bought me himself. The thought of him seemed to make me less and less angry as time went on.

I'd practise throwing knives, I'd climb the buildings, and even though I had a horrible fear of heights, I was pretty good at it. The training got more elaborate. On horseback, or with an arm tied behind my back, with one leg, throwing knives with a blindfold. Mario had to call in mercenaries so that we could work in numbers. I'd even managed to gain hold of a crossbow, and I needed to be able to shoot it with one hand, load it while running, jump onto a horse—which I had horrible trouble with because I was so short.

We also went on a couple trips during the course of the months, to other parts of Tuscany particularly. I learned basically how to stalk, and even cooler, how to walk unseen. Easily the coolest feat and it came to me in two or three days. I wasn't very good with pickpocketing, it conflicted with my morals, but I had to learn it in case I needed it. Mario occasionally remembered something he'd forgotten previously and fill me in on it while it was still hot in his mind. And I did a couple of small jobs for the local townspeople; a few courier jobs, all just running around. Mario made sure I knew which pigeons to check the messages on, and from which coups too.

I gave up on time, letting it race past me. I only ever got out my old things from the twenty-first century once during the whole time, and it was sort of like a mental goodbye for me. The small phone I couldn't even turn on now, the battery was flat and it simply felt alien in my hands. I traced the edges with my finger for a moment, but then I decided I'd never get them out again. This was it. This was the goodbye, the last one. I loved the people I'd left behind, but now I had to adapt, completely. And so I found a loose floorboard in my room and pulled it up, and tucked my bag neatly into the small hole. Replacing the wooden slat, I whispered goodbye.

I was a deadly fighter; I had very little to lose. It wasn't something that happened overnight, it took me months, I don't know how long exactly, but I got taller, faster, and even a little bit prettier if I do say so myself. My wounds were practically non-existent. I didn't have a clear memory of Ezio, and I'd wondered a few times why I'd acted like that. And I slowly ran out of things I could do. Mario did some investigating, talked to some contacts in Florence and Tuscany, but all roads appeared to be leading to Venice. So I stayed around for a few more months, before Mario let me know that I should go during Carnevale, a month away; the idea made my heart leap in my chest just thinking about it. Oh, the wonderful things to be seen!

He raised an eyebrow at my intake of breath and made me promise to stick to my duties before I was allowed to have any fun. Of course I agreed; it was_ Carnevale. _One does not simply _not_ take the chance to go. But I had to work toward the day.

Mario sent one of the mercenaries I was pretty close with. He was pretty tall, stockily-built and his name was Arturo—we visited San Gimignano two days following this news, hearing word there was a bit of a problem with corrupt guards. Really, Arturo was more of an escort than anything else; like Ezio, Mario wished to baby me. Of course, I'd pick on it with Ezio, but never with Mario. You had to humour the guy.

It was simple, and let's face it, I overestimated myself. Who doesn't on their first time round? Basically, my task was to catch a single guy out, who was going around and essentially just spreading rumours that forced certain men to act in a certain way. Wouldn't even bother with making him feel sorry, just straight out kill him, in cold blood. For the most part, it seemed almost right. The stories, of the horrible things that had been done under his word… I cringed. He was an evil man. I thought it was positively ridiculous; why couldn't everyone just stick to their day jobs instead of having a hidden agenda? It wasn't that hard.

But I suppose what did I know? So I'm sitting down on a bench with my head down, when this guard comes along. I'd spent the last hour sitting here, waiting for him to come past, thinking he may never show, but he did, and I remembered exactly what I'd been told. _You'll know him when you see him._ And I could tell straight away. He was basically strutting like nothing could touch him, and there seemed to be this huge big empty space around him, that separated him from other people. Everyone appeared to be keeping their distance, which didn't make sense because on a superficial level, he looked exactly like every other guard. They all dressed the same, and this guy looked like one of the more scrawny ones. The kind that would stick you in the back during a fight.

Arturo, who reminded me of Domenico from a long, long time back, was hanging around a group of short-skirted women, looking awfully flimsy just by the way he was talking to them. It seemed to fit his character a bit. I could see him out of the corner of my right eye, so if I turned my head even slightly, we could make eye contact, signalling just about anything. But I didn't, not yet, not when this guard was just sauntering openly with all his little buddies around. There was a group of four guarding the door to an office, not unlike the one I'd been placed in on my first night here. I didn't quite know why, though. I didn't know if I'd escaped the authority's eye out of chance, or if they'd just not cared enough about a lost girl who doesn't speak Italian.

This guy just waltzed up to the guys and starting talking to them. They didn't move, the two closer to the door kept watch on the predominately poor folk around them, clustered in groups, some headed away from mass, others just standing around gossiping. If I was going to kill this guy, he needed to go down an alleyway, or end up in a dead end somewhere. But there was somehow the knowledge in my mind that he knew the ways of San Gimignano much better than that.

There was a slight reaction from each of the four guards. He was probably telling them to have no mercy, like another group. I wasn't there in time to help that, which I regretted. But here and now, I could see with all four of them, they got more tense, standing taller and straighter. The one at the front who was seemingly in charge, decided to rest his hand on his sword hilt. Another group of poor folk walked into the square, and the guy ended his conversation, and left. This was my chance.

I walked up to the crowd and milled through the middle, but as soon as the guard turned a corner, I knew I had to move. I tried to push through people and I rushed to turn the same corner, ducking behind a barrel while he was talking to another guard. He was a little too close for me to move, but I couldn't hear him, so I waited ten seconds before peeking my head around. He reached another corner as I _just_ put my head up. He turned left.

I decided to go for some more drastic measures, and scaled the building side. Okay, maybe I just thought it was cool that I could do that. It took concentration all right, but it was still just so cool! At first, it didn't occur to me the attention I'd bring to myself, but after getting to the top, it's not like it mattered. If anyone _could_ follow me, it'd take them awhile.

The guard was parading down this huge wide street, but I was pretty sure he was going to aim for the marketplace. There was a turn that led there up ahead. That was something I had to learn; before I was to go to a new place, I had to be able to make my way around without getting lost. So upon arrival, I'd bought a map and wandered a bit. Yeah, the map was fairly expensive, but I really felt it was worth it. I'd have it in my memory for the rest of my life. I'd gone to the trouble of learning Florence and well, of course I knew Monteriggioni. Venice was next on my list.

Before he'd even turned the corner, I scaled the closest wall until I was right next to the guy, only two stories higher. He _did_ turn the corner, just like I expected, and I felt that it was going to have to be now or never. But then he did something strange. Instead of going straight to the market place, he turned another corner, into a really secluded alleyway, and I had no choice but to follow him on the ground. This was a dodgy part of town, and funnily enough it was right beside the most populated part. But I knew this was bad. Before I jumped down, I made sure of two things: first, that I was out of his sight while I did so, and secondly, that my lovely friend Arturo was nearby.

It was dumb to jump, I know, but it wasn't like I was going to bother to take an extra ten seconds to climb down. I had no idea what to expect, but I knew it was a dead end and that was enough for me. I hit the ground with a soft thud, only a single straw of pain tracing up my right leg. I winced, but I could live with it.

It was quiet, which bothered me a small amount. I tiptoed up to the corner, where the alleyway opened up into a small square. Alarm bells went off in the back of my head. This was not right. I approached the corner, and, knowing all the while I was in full view if anyone was looking even remotely in my direction, I poked my head around. There weren't any doors, so he couldn't have gone far. That's when I heard the sound of elastic. It wasn't modern-day elastic, not like the rubber bands or hair ties I knew, but thick, cord-like elastic, probably made from some kind of animal innards. My hand flew to my belt, but he saw my shoulder move, and moved the arrow up, right to my temple, so I could see the point in my periphery.

"Drop it."


	23. Chapter 23

I huffed, and flung the knife in front of me on the ground. It was only a throwing knife, but he had a bow to my head. A huge, ninety-pounder, that could probably send an arrow straight through me.

"Show me your hands." And I complied. I stepped out, into full view, knowing all too well that it would give me away. He'd see most, if not all, of my weapons. I had a good feeling he wouldn't see all. He didn't want me to turn toward him, I knew it, because when I did, he pulled tighter on the cord, ensuring an even quicker death for me, provided he knew the right places to aim. At least one of us did.

"Take off the belt." And I smile, satirically. He was setting himself up for disaster, I knew it. Slowly, without sudden movements, I undid the tie at the back, and let it fall to the floor at my feet, not even reacting at the sound. I was watching his eyes with great intensity, waiting for them to drop.

And of course, they did. It was only for a moment, but that was enough. I darted out of the way, and the arrow left the hands of its master, flying off into the wall. From behind me, I pulled a knife curled like a semicircle around the outside of my wrist when I held it, and I charged him, pushing him against the far wall, my knife at his throat. He was fast, yes, but we were both equally as weak. He knew full well that if he pushed me, or struggled, I could move my wrist and shear the skin that covered his windpipe. He'd either drown in his own blood, or from loss of blood; it really was dependant on my mood.

He let out a gasp of surprise, and for a moment, I knew he was exactly the type. The big, macho nobody-can-touch-me act was gone, and now he was really fearful. I smiled, because it settled the uneasiness of what I was about to do.

"Please—PLEASE! I have a wife and children!" aaaaaaaaaaaaand, I'd heard this before. I'd heard this a lot of times. I was warned of this tactic; appeal to the emotions of your killer. It disgusted me, how a man already so low, would fall to the depths, just to save his own hide. I scowled as I flicked my wrist forward and back in one fluid motion, and let his body crumple lifelessly to the floor. Someone would find him sooner or later. I cleaned the blade on his clothes, and searched him for a little bit of cash. There was an apple, and 17 florins. That'd sort dinner.

I could hear a group of men, no doubt his friends, laughing, their words echoing down the alleyway. It was maybe fifty metres in length, so I had time. I grabbed my belt, and with it on my shoulder, I scaled the wall and up, into the sunny afternoon. The last thing I did before meeting Arturo was tie my robes back around myself, letting my now-cold and exposed chest revel in the warmth. The white and red suited me like it never had before.

Arturo seemed pretty happy that I hadn't disappeared. He was even happy that I returned, seemingly without a care in the world. I raised my eyebrows at him and asked if perhaps we could go to the market. He obliged, and so we went. Everyone was trying to sell me something, and even though this wasn't the best day for shopping, produce still needed to be bought, and people still needed to eat. The meat was a little expensive, so I only bought a small amount for the two of us, and some bread and vegetables, and we found a place to stay for the night. Really, we could have ridden back to Monteriggioni tonight, but I was in a good mood, so I suggested we camp out. Arturo wasn't altogether thrilled with the idea, but he said yes after some convincing.

We had to be at the edge of town, near the road that led out. We'd have all of tomorrow to get back, but right now I just wanted to celebrate the fact that a job was well done. Neither of us were tired, so we went back into town, though there was very little to do. I decided to do some hopping about. Arturo stood in the one place, waiting for me to drain all the energy out of myself.

I managed to climb one of the really tall towers, and when I got to the top, the sun was just setting, and it occurred to me that once the sun set, I wouldn't be able to get down. This scared me more than a little bit, and so I started climbing down at once, hurriedly. I slipped on a handhold and screamed, even though the rest of me stayed put. I clamped my hand over my mouth and waited for someone to point me out and grab a pitchfork but it just didn't happen. I made the rest of the way down quickly, and Arturo made a point of mentioning that I shouldn't do that again unless I knew I'd have plenty of time to get down. I giggled a little bit.

But just before we left, I caught sight of a couple of guards heading in our direction, so I found some nearby crates and scrambled onto the roof. They weren't on watch, so they had to be doing something. I followed them, and I knew immediately that Arturo was crossing his arms over his chest, and muttering something about how shiny or fickle I was. The problem was, it was always true, no matter what he said. But he put up with my antics, which made me happy, so I pretty much considered him a keeper.

The two men had their business faces on, and really, that's why I was following them. Because they weren't out to kill someone, and as such, weren't looking around to make sure anyone was following them. I scrabbled noiselessly along the rooftops, cringing when I hit a loose tile. They didn't seem to notice though. They walked wordlessly to a door, in the richer part of town, near the Antico Teatro Romano, but inside the walls. They paused, and then knocked, loudly.

The woman who answered the door struck a chord in me, and I was speechless. She obviously knew these two men, and the news they were bringing was distressing. The closed the door behind her, after telling her little girl, about five years old, to go play with her toys. My heart twisted and turned in my chest. She knew exactly what they were going to tell her, I couldn't even hear them properly, but I knew. This was his wife. I'd ignored his pleas, and now here was his wife, crying while her husband's friends comforted her. I had to put the back of my fist in my mouth to stop me from making a noise.

I suppose you couldn't have heard me over the sound of her wails.

I left before I could start crying, and returned to Arturo in a withered state. He didn't ask, I didn't know what I could say. He must've understood from the moment I left, because he just held me while I cried in horrible, horrible enlightenment. I was thankful when that night ended. Where we were camping, at the edge of the city, it was pretty far out, because we couldn't camp on the farmland. Someone would surely have a problem with us trudging all over their land while they're trying to make a living from it. In the morning, we took our time leaving, but before we left, there was something I had to do.

I retraced my steps, until I found that which I was searching for. I placed a small pouch, about the size of my hand, full with small metal coins, on the doorhandle and knocked. I watched from above as the door opened, and the woman was confused, but for a moment. Then she saw the pouch and understanding dawned on her face. She felt the full weight of it in her withered hands, and looked around hopefully. But not once did she look up. I rode back to Monteriggioni with my heart at peace.

"So hey. Remind me again why we kill _everyone _who does something wrong?" Mario was hunched in his chair, reading a book. Like always.

"Why do I get the feeling you're about to question something?" He replied.

"I just _did _question something." He sighed, and closed the book delicately.

"Well, we don't just go killing _everyone_ who does something wrong, for starters," he said, putting way too much emphasis on the 'everyone'. "We kill members of the Templar Order."

"But the man you had me kill, Pistachio or something, he wasn't a Templar. He was just a bitch." And there was that look again, the one-raised-eyebrow-but-straight-face look. Ezio did it too. Why was everyone so unsurprised by the things I said?!

"He was paid by a Templar. Just because the main leaders, the ones in power, are no longer present, doesn't mean that there weren't others. The followers. The ones with a thousand eyes.

"But why couldn't we have simply knocked him up a bit. He wasn't _that_ big. And it's not like he himself had any followers. He was just pepping everyone up."

"But 'pepping everyone up' has its consequences, and can put innocent at lives in danger simply because of a few hundred florins. Maybe some extra money was all he wanted, but he shouldn't have taken the money in the first place, if that was the cost. People sell their souls every day, for little more than money, but they never consider the costs." It was food for thought.

Often, maybe thrice a week, I'd go to the sanctuary, just for some time to think. I studied each statue to the point where I could've carved it myself, with every detail. It got boring, I have to say. Every opponent I could fight in the rink was too easy; all the mercenaries depended on their strength, which I had little of, but one thing I did have was speed, which made targets like them pretty easy to best.

There was only a week left for me until I was leaving, and I spent each minute of it training. Or contemplating. Or planning. Mario gave me a map and I memorized it. That was all I did.

And then the day finally came. _Finally. _I'd woken up much before dawn, and I'd packed three dresses—we decided if I was to fit in, I'd have to wear dresses, or at least take them. The problem with dresses though, is that it completely maimed my ability to run, so I had to ask the tailor to do some serious altering. He wasn't happy with that. I'd still packed pants, and bandages so I could bind my chest if need be.

And I was off. It was the first time I'd ever made a journey of that magnitude on my own, so I was sure to travel fast. Mario was very unhappy with me going on my own, but I told him I'd send word on my arrival, and that he should worry if I haven't been heard from in five days. He said two. We compromised on three. I was given money, a single horse and I left by the time there were the first strings of light visible in the east, barely brighter than moonlight.

I rode fast and hard to Florence, and then kept up a steady pace through the mountains. I did catch the eye of an occasional traveller, but I left no chance for communication. The last thing I wanted was to be robbed, or worse. I pushed on past nightfall until I hit Forli and searched for an inn. From Forli in the following morning, I took a boat, and by mid-morning, I was in Venice, again. It was only the second day of Carnevale and I could tell distinctly where the people were celebrating and where they weren't. Of course, it was only in the richer parts.

It was midday, so I stopped for food at the market, and began to people-watch. I didn't need to send a pigeon yet. There was plenty of time for me to say hello to Leonardo, maybe buy or make myself a mask, and perhaps even change into one of my more elaborate dresses. Mario didn't know that I'd bought it, so I had to sneak it into my suitcase. It was blue, gold, and worth more than a fortune. Of course he wouldn't want me to have it, though. It was a strictly fun-only dress, and I had to expect to be on the prowl at all times. I promised myself I'd have at least an hour to myself, and then the work began. Okay, not _work_, per se, but kind of like an incognito spy. Or like a guard, really, except nobody knew that I was one. Ezio would fill me in.

I'd finished my lunch within ten minutes, but it wasn't until the sun was saying mid-afternoon that I arrived at Leonardo's door. He was pretty happy to see me, but it seemed that he hadn't heard my reasoning for returning to Monteriggioni. It was nice, though I still had the scars.

We talked for a fair while, and for the first time, I gladly accepted a pot of coffee when he offered me one. It was always easy to be here with him. He was just so lovely.

Admittedly, I started to freeze up at the mention of Ezio, but the thing is, he did too. He was a pretty open person, but for some reason, he was trying to avoid it, if I didn't know better. I didn't know his problem, but I was itching to talk with Ezio again. Any bitter feelings I'd had for him had long since expired, and now I appeared to be having a bit of a problem with keeping my excitement inside my chest. I asked Leonardo where he was headed.

"He's going to be busy tonight, Abigail. Maybe you could talk to him tomorrow."

"Come on, he can't be _that_ busy!" and I was on my feet, heading for the door.

"Seriously, Abigail, wait until tomorrow!" He called after me, trying to stop me somehow. I was off though, and I ran in the direction of all the festivities, excited as ever. I grinned as I ran, ready to run into his arms. Maybe I really did love him. I still had all my weapons on me, the only thing I'd left behind was my huge bag. So I'd have to go back for sure.

The happy feelings in my gut really didn't prepare me for what I saw next. I knew it was Ezio, I could have known him anywhere, but I sure as hell didn't know who she was. I froze in my tracks, and for a moment all I could think was that he was kissing her. _Her._ I already hated her, instantly. I didn't even have to know her. But then she broke off the kiss and exclaimed "EZIO?!" as if she was surprised. Bitch didn't even know who she was kissing!

I just stared in horror as she backed away from him, telling him never to try to contact her again. First, he called after her. Then, he laid his eyes on me.


	24. Chapter 24

**Enjoy! **

His eyes were the same gorgeous colour as always, and just as intense.

"Abigail." One word. One single, disgusting word that I never wanted him to say again. I backed off, and indicated pretty firmly that I didn't want him to follow me. It never stopped him before, though, so I didn't know who I was kidding.

I ran, for the life of me, not knowing who or where or what I was running to, but I just ran. I climbed a ladder and made it further from the rooves. I could hear him behind me, giving chase and slowly gaining, until he could reach out and wrapped his arms around me, forcing me to a halt, both of us on the ground in a heap. I fought for freedom, until I could scramble to my feet again, but he pulled me back by the shoulder.

"Please. Just let me explain!" he sounded desperate. I could barely see through the tears, running down my cheeks like waterfalls. He clamped a hand around my wrist, the other with a hand on the side of my face, so I could see directly into his eyes. "Please—"

I scrambled my curved blade out of it's sheathe and awkwardly lashed out with it, not doing much damage in the wrong hand. He clamped his hand down on my wrist so tight I was forced to drop it.

"Why should I let you explain?" I asked in a dangerously low voice. His eyes were hard now, but they still followed mine, my every move as I stared at him with such a pure look of hatred. It hurt me to know what I was doing.

"Because I love you." and there you go. He used it. I'd spent months, _months_, training to become a deadly killer. Working so hard to be like him, when what I should have aimed for was to be better. I should've been better. I wanted to be deadly, but there was still that one chink in my armor, and he used it against me, like this. I almost faltered, almost. Then I remembered he must've used that line hundreds, if not thousands of times before.

I quickly loped under his left arm, so he was forced to let go of me, and I kicked desperately behind his knees, but it didn't have much effect. He spun around, letting me easily pull his short blade free from its scabbard. I held it with two fingers on the flat side of the blade, aimed directly for his neck. He froze, only for a second, before flicking it out of his way and closing the distance. I'd already grabbed another of my knives for throwing, and this time I only had to look up slightly, without moving forward at all to reach him. He could feel it pricking into his neck, and then I realize, I could feel something too.

I looked down, and he held his hidden blade over the gap between my collar bones, ready to flick it out. I looked up to him, and then down to the blade on my chest. I dropped the last knife, and it clattered to the floor. I stepped back from him and looked up. For a moment, I could see clearly. Then, when he began to approach me again, I pushed him back, hitting him on the chest where I knew it didn't hurt him. I hit him again two, three times, with my fists, and he didn't try to fight back or even stop me. He knew he deserved that.

Really, that was about the time where a person would break down and give in and they'd do the happy ever after part. Instead, I poured every strip of emotion I had into that. I pushed him so hard he fell back, and even then I just couldn't stop the tears. Then I stopped with a hard resolve.

I paced a metre or two in every direction, hands on my hips. I picked up my blades, and placed them back where they belonged. I carelessly flung Ezio's short blade at him, not even bothering to make sure it didn't hit something vital. And then I took one last look at him. He'd gotten to his feet and was now staring at me. I'd decided that I'd made up my mind.

"Ezio?" I called, turning my head to my side. He was still there; I could see him in my periphery. He didn't appear to be trying to pursue again.

"Never try to find me." And I ran. That was it. I just ran. And he didn't try to follow me. He didn't even try to reason, to stall me, even for a second. And a part of me wished that he had. Every part of me just wanted to kiss him and wish it was in the past. But I couldn't; we couldn't just pretend that it didn't happen. How long has he known her? It didn't even matter anymore. I just needed to get somewhere I knew. There was one satirical thought sitting in the back of my mind. _Now, you've got nothing to lose._

I arrived straight into Leonardo's open arms, and he just held me. It was such a teenager-like thing to do, which kind of proved that some parts of me were still exactly the same as they were the day I'd arrived. He offered me coffee and we sat and talked for a while, but his workshop wasn't really a great place for sitting and talking, so we were in his lounge upstairs.

"So I take it you met Cristina?" he asked gravely.

"You mean the _puttana _he was kissing? What, he didn't have the decency to take her to a bedroom, instead of in an alleyway?" I almost spat the words at him.

"She's married. If she agreed to anything he had've said, it would've been because she didn't know who he was. That was the only way, and he already knew this." But that was worse for me. He'd even go for a married girl? I suppose it means he wouldn't even go for her again. But there were others. There always were.

"Did they… know each other? Before today?" He sighed, and took a sip of his coffee.

"Before I moved to Venice, I lived in Florence; you know this. But for years before you showed up, Maria would come to my workshop, ask for me specifically to paint her family portraits. Ezio had been a fan of the ladies since he became a young man. And of course, they were defenceless to his charms." He took another sip.

"But there was one young woman, unlike any other, whom he cared for like no other." A dark emotion broiled in my stomach. It _had_ to be her. "And that was Cristina." _Bingo._

"She has always been a beautiful girl. When you live long enough in a community, you begin to know the people, understand how things work, and discover who is prone to the most scandalous things. Ezio was one of them. He still is. The woman at the docks, the one I'm sure you remember very clearly, who let Ezio onto the boat—she is one of them—and you saw how they acted toward each other." I assumed he was talking about the woman I'd christened Spiderlady. Now it _definitely _fitted.

"Maria would tell me the various stories, of how Ezio kept staying the night, and not once got caught. At one point, Cristina's father had hired guards to stay outside their house so he wouldn't come."

"And what happened?" I didn't know it was possible for my heart to crush further.

"He found a way. He always, always did." I looked down at my hands. For the first time in my life, it looked like I had piano fingers, because of how thin they were now. I turned my palms over, again and again, searching for something. I sighed.

"For them, it was love. Yes, it got them into a lot of trouble. Her father thought she deserved far better. I suppose she did—they were a very rich family—but Ezio was all that she wanted. When Ezio's father and brothers were killed that day, just days before you'd arrived, he was forced to change. He had to leave; he had to get his family out of here. There was no place for the family of convicted conspirators.

"But then there was the day that they brought you to my door." I sought to remember it. Wow, it was years ago, now. I'd completely left behind everything that made me up when I'd stepped into this world—and it really was like another world entirely.

"You know, he was so fascinated by you. I just thought you were a lovely young woman who needed help, but he; he thought you were mesmerizing. When I told him you didn't speak Italian, he was even more enraptured. You didn't even try to be beautiful. You still don't; you just are." My face flushed red-hot. I looked up from my hands to him, and instantly regretted it, because he was looking straight at me, smiling.

"He suggested that you come to Monteriggioni with him. He'd just acquired the means to leave with his family, and in the process, he also found you."

I could lie and say that I didn't sleep that night, but I did. I kept having these raging, vivid dreams, but not once did I wake up. When the morning showed up, it felt like I hadn't slept at all. I spent a lot of time lying in bed, wondering what I could do with my day, when I heard Leonardo ascend the stairs. I sat up when he walked in, a neat little breakfast on the tray in his hands.

"How are you?" he asked, sitting the tray down on the end of the bed. I regarded it thoughtfully.

"Fine. Tired. I'm at a lack of things to do. I think I might find the thieves guild and talk to Antonio, maybe see if there are some things I could do that would be moderately helpful around here." Leonardo pursed his lips.

"You don't have to, you know. You're welcome to stay here as long as you like, my dear. You're wonderful company to have around." It occurred to me how lonely he might get, commissioned to paint family portraits, but was there so many to do that he barely got a chance to experience Venice for what it was? I smiled at him.

"I couldn't do that to you. But please, while we have the means, I ought to take you out to Carnevale, even if just for one night. Please." My smile started on one side of my mouth and spread across.

"Of course we will! In fact..." He stood up and left the room, me hanging on his last word, wondering what on earth he could possibly doing with the second half of that sentence. He returned after about ten seconds.

"Here we are." Two tickets, written on thick parchment, handwritten in golden script, gorgeous. But two tickets, to a masquerade ball. That means I'd need a mask. And a nice dress! But a masquerade ball! It was like a dream come true. And it was in six days' time, just days before the festivities ended. I took them out of his hand, with gentleness that suggested they were made of porcelain, and read the writing over and over again. Talk about a dream come true.

The following day, I did some surveying of the area. I went shopping, and I guess I began to act like I lived here. This time, when I was here, I wasn't trying to get away from someone, or trying to heal from wounds; I was just living. I had plans to maybe see what else was kicking, maybe head on over to France or somewhere over there and see if they needed my help. From what I knew, the Assassins were everywhere, so it wouldn't be hard to stumble across one's path. It was all about looking for the signs. They'd probably notice my presence within a few days, if I did the right things.

Of course, Leonardo had to paint, so I was left to my own devices—we'd already determined that I didn't have the patience to learn his trade. It was far too picky, and required too many layers! And I just generally sucked at artistry, in every form. Ever.

I was walking across the rialto, the sun beginning to sink into the horizon, and for a moment I just stopped on the ledge, overlooking the main canal, and watched the boats pass under. The sun was warm but the cold was starting to set in for the night, and lights and lanterns were beginning to light up for Carnevale. Everyone appeared to be wearing a mask, regardless of how lavishly they were dressed.

I leant against the railing, chewing my lip fiercely, before I decided that I too should get one. I had asked Leonardo if he himself had one, but he mentioned that he'd lent it out to Ezio, so I bought one for him too. If there was one thing I was cautious about, it was how much money I'd spent. I didn't really know how I could make more, so I was really relying on the few florins Mario had given me to start off with. It should've covered me for about a month's worth of food, but I was hesitant to completely use that up, so I could've probably gone fifty per cent longer. But then there were the things that weren't exactly necessities, like masks…

The breeze blew the wind in my face as I went to pay for the masks. I'd chosen one for myself made with a peacock feather—it was a ridiculous price—and for Leonardo, I bought a red one. I handed over 23 florins, and smiled graciously at the man, who bowed and then moved on to his next customer. I took both masks in the one hand and pulled a loose strand behind my ear, turning to head back in the direction I came. I was about half way home when I heard not too far away, _"THIEF! GUARDS, GET HIM!"_

I looked around to see a silhouette disappearing over the side of the building.


	25. Chapter 25

Leonardo was positively thrilled when he saw what I'd bought him. I'd arrived at the door looking like I'd been in a hurry, because I really had. He ushered me inside and I showed the masks off to him, and I have to say, he looked rather dashing in his. He told me to show him the dress I planned on wearing for the ball, and he thought it was most beautiful—I'd chosen it myself. Dinner was short, and then Leonardo decided that perhaps we should go out, as he had a little bit of time. I didn't put my grand dress on, no way, but instead, one of the slightly-altered ones. We wore our masks as we walked down the street toward the festivities, talking and laughing, until the party completely swallowed us whole. And then we were moving around, dancing with whoever would taken our hands, laughing and clapping along with the music. I could swear at one point I saw a silhouette on the rooftops, but I didn't let it bother me. For the moment there was only the music and us.

That's when a young announcer revealed the news that there would be games held here, each a mystery until the previous was completed. I froze as he announced that the first game was a test of charm, but it wasn't that at all. It had nothing to do with the games, but who was standing behind the announcer, off to the left, in his dark cowl. His eyes shone like diamonds, and they were staring straight ahead, straight at me. I thought he'd recognised me, and that he was going to take me again, but then his gaze shifted to the rooftops, and I understood. He was searching for something. _More like someone_, I thought bitterly. I didn't relax for the rest of the night.

The first game could be played by pretty much everyone; we were simply given a ribbon, and had to stand in small groups. Where Leonardo and I chose to stand, there were three others with us; two women, very young and completely fascinated by everything here, and a drunk man, maybe in his thirties, who seemed to like the look of me. Every time I snuck a glance at him, he'd be staring straight at me. It was creepy. Our job was to wait for a rather charming man to come along and entice us enough to give him our ribbons. I tucked mine on my belt at the front, and waited for someone to approach us, but nothing really happened for some time. That's when I looked down and realized it was already gone, and a retreating form told me exactly who it was. I felt the beginning of a growl in the back of my throat. But even more importantly, I'd let my guard down completely. I ground my teeth together.

After only a few more minutes, with my ever-increasing bad mood, the announcer called out to the crowd because they'd found a winner. Leonardo was beside me in the crowd when they announced the winner, and that's when Ezio stepped forward. I tensed up, more so than I was already, and concentrated.

My torturer spoke to a larger, far larger man—I couldn't think of another way to describe him, he was just _huge_—and then his eyes flicked back to the crowd, back to Ezio, and then landed on me. My breath caught in my throat. Yes, he knew _exactly_ who I was. _"I look forward to the stories you will tell next time."_ I couldn't look away, because that would give me away. It's not like I had anything else to give away. Besides, he couldn't do anything with a crowd of this size around. And not with Venice's famed artist standing directly beside me, pulling on my arm to make sure I was alright. I really, _really_ didn't want him to get in on this. He was still very much innocent.

He pulled on my arm again, and this time, my eyes flicked to him.

"What?"

"I said are you okay, Abigail. What's wrong?" his eyes were almost pleading.

"Nothing." I smiled, simply shrugging it off. I glanced quickly up at the stage. Ezio was gone, and the torturer—I didn't even know who he was—was preoccupied with someone else already.

"Nothing at all." I mumbled.

I went to see Antonio the following morning. He had a master head-ache, which I'm sure was really a hangover. He was prattling on about some girl who got stabbed the night before, and at first, I jumped to conclusions, but then he confirmed it was some Templar messenger or footman or something. I don't know. He seemed really disinclined to talk Ezio up.

I mentioned the ribbon game, and immediately he took a foothold.

"Well, yes. Last night was a step in the right direction, but we're still a work in progress. Ezio—" There was no way to be subtle about it.

"I don't care what Ezio's doing. I came here wanting a job, not an update." Antonio stared me down for a moment with his brow furrowed, and then got up, out of his seat with a profuse lack of co-ordination. The giant map he had in the middle of the room, he looked down at.

"It looks like we don't really have any form of work for you, Abigail. Unless you wanted to help Ezio out, but he seems pretty content to work by himself." My ears pricked up.

"What did he say?" I said too quickly. Antonio raised an eyebrow at me.

"...He simply mentioned that you'd decided you didn't want anything to do with us at the moment." My eyes narrowed.

I left the room, listening to the loud click of my shoes as I crossed the square courtyard to the door. My dress flew up around me in its many skirts, and my speed threw my hair out of my face; it was plain to see I wasn't happy. A silhouette out of the corner of my eye, up on the high balcony, barely caught my attention, but I flicked my hair and tapped my left hand on a blade, because he knew I knew he was watching me. He was doing everything right though; keeping his distance was wise.

Leonardo was somewhat pleased that I hadn't any work. He talked while he painted, and I sat myself on my desk, playing with the frills of my skirts. It was just chatting, really, he was saying something about this young woman who'd just been married, and she had always loved the boy, no matter what ridiculous antics they'd thrown at each other growing up. I laughed to myself a little bit, with one of those one-sided smiles, and looked up to Leonardo while he was painting. He seemed to be happy as long as I was. I raised my eyes for a moment, pursed my lips.

"Is marrying for love rare?"

"Not as rare as one might think, but it's not often that people get the chance. It's lucky for you that you haven't had a father figure telling you to choose a suitor." And that was true. I suppose I didn't have one anymore. My mind flew back to his warm open arms, and how no matter what age I was, he was always bigger than me. I couldn't picture his face in my mind. Nor my mother's. My brother, all I could remember of him was his hair. I didn't even realize that I'd lapsed into silence, staring at the floor with my hands still.

Leonardo stopped to stare at me for a moment, and then put down his paintbrush.

"Tell me about them. Your family. What were they like?"

"Oh no, I shouldn't. Besides, I don't think I'll ever see them again. They're just a thing of the past now." And it hurt me for saying so.

"Please?" For a moment, I just stared at him with a frown, but then I bit my lip and shrugged. Oh fine. What could it hurt anyway?

"Well, where I came from, it didn't matter who you married. People were living to be over a hundred years old on the odd occasion. People drove—" I stuttered. I don't think there was a word for it yet. "…machines, everywhere, and used them to communicate and to pass time and watch plays and listen to music. I still have mine, though it's run out of power now. You could take a 'train'—I said the word in English—into the city, and all the buildings were twenty, fifty, hundreds of stories high." Leonardo's eyes were like dinner plates.

"And I suppose my family wasn't that bad off. We always had enough money for food, clothes. We never starved."

"But your mother and father, what were they like? How would Ezio have fared if he had've courted you?" I laughed for a moment, just thinking about it.

"I think my father would have scared him." I said with a smile. "All my past… suitors, have been afraid of him. The rules of courtship are far different where I am from; we're allowed to court before marriage. Freely. And they always found him scary. But courtship didn't necessarily mean marriage, so he liked to be scary, to make sure that they'd treat me well."

"And did it work?"

"Of course! Ezio is... was... would have been... Lucky, that he wasn't around. I imagine he'd have behaved better." The words formed a knot in my stomach. I mean, I wasn't upset at him still, I'd gotten past it pretty quickly, but a tight knot still meandered it's way into my stomach. He really had a very firm grip on me, little did he know. We fell into silence.

"What about your mother?" He prompted, before I got a chance to dwell in the nastier corners of my mind.

"She was lovely. She was a writer, so she was always at home. She had a novel she was working on, and she wrote weekly sections of a magazine. I have her hair." I smiled, pulling my hair over my shoulder and playing with it.

"So, your mother was educated then?" I did a double take, and then it clicked.

"Oh yes, yes, definitely! Yes. Everyone is. I mean yeah, there are still dumb people, but everyone has to go to school from five to eighteen years old. It's illegal if you don't go." He nodded, holding his chin between two fingers thoughtfully.

"Me disappearing must have broken her heart." Leonardo patted my knee, and I wrapped my arms around myself. Breathing in, out.

"Maybe not?" He suggested, and I looked at him quizzically.

"What do you mean?" He can't seriously be suggesting that my disappearance doesn't effect anything, can he?

"Well, I've been thinking about it for some time, and in the first place, it really doesn't seem possible. But if it was, what if you time travelling here has made your world freeze? So when your life here ends, or reaches a certain point, you will return to the same place with an entire new set of memories, but you will be the same as when you left. You'll come home and everything will be the same. What do you think of that?" I sat there, thinking it over, my heart slowly rising at the idea. What if they hadn't noticed I was gone, and years of tears were for nothing? It kind of made me smile. I could live with that. I looked over at Leonardo just as the door knocked. I could tell by the knocking who it was; the guards tended to announce their arrival like an ice cream truck. I wasn't in a rush to get out of the way. I wanted him to know I was here. The door was opened, and I jumped off the desk, making a beeline for the stairs. I turned the corner, but didn't go up the stairs. I wanted to hear this.

"I'm not here for her, I need your help, Leonardo."

"Another codex! Please, take a seat, and I'll be with you in a moment." A few moments passed. There was a faint scuffling on the desk.

"So how have things been? I see you're painting a portrait." Leonardo took a couple minutes to reply; I'd given up on standing and was now sitting on the bottom step.

"Well... A woman has asked me to paint a portrait of her for her husband's family portrait gallery. I'll be doing her husband next month, too." I giggled at the wording, and then froze because I think he'd have heard me. I waited for any indication that he had, but apparently not.

"Have you been going out at all during Carnevale? The festivities are great."

"Yes, a couple nights ago now. But I've been invited to a grand ball in a couple nights time, which will be good. Abigail has bought herself and me a mask for the occasion."

Silence. It stretched on, and on. I think I stopped breathing for a minute, there.

"How is she?"

More silence. I could hear my pulse behind my ears.

"She's well. She doesn't like not being able to work, but I feel better with her staying here than out there, doing something dangerous."

"Very true; but the timing of Carnevale couldn't have come better. It's making my work easier. I won another of the games tonight."

"Well that's good. We can't have you getting into trouble." And I could hear the smile in his voice. If anything, I'd think that Leonardo missed having Ezio around. But I didn't know if it was because I no longer wanted him in my life, or if Ezio just didn't visit that often. Really, I'd almost consider Leonardo my parent, or my big brother, or some equivalent. He immediately took me in, without question. He's generous, kind, and lovely company to have around. Ezio laughed.

"Indeed."

"But Ezio?" Leonardo said, quieter this time. I don't think Ezio gave a verbal reply, because it was Leonardo who spoke next. I strained to hear, barely catching the words.

"You really have no idea, about her. No idea at all."


	26. Chapter 26

The sky was incredibly blue the following day, not a cloud in sight. I was staring out the window, puzzled, because the city was extremely quiet. I could hear a few birds singing in the distance, just quiet, normal sounds. I sleep through that every morning. But that can't have been what woke me up. I normally slept in much later than this. I rolled onto my back and stayed there for a moment. _BANG BANG BANG._ Okay, _that_ was the reason I was awake. It seemed bizarre for this time of the morning. _BANG BANG—_

The door opened, and people spoke hurriedly. Leonardo must've let the guy in. Then there was the discrete sound of the stairs, and I knew it was Leonardo coming upstairs. I could bet all my money on him coming to get me. I lay in bed, waiting, and surely enough, he rocked up.

"Abigail, there's someone here to see you." Not at all surprised.

"Who is it?"

"I'm not sure exactly. I don't know how you would know him either."

"Why is that?"

"He's… grizzly." I laughed; I had a very good idea of who it was.

Arturo was waiting downstairs, playing with something delicate on the desk. Leonardo immediately rushed over to take it from it, exclaiming "Don't touch that!" and Arturo jumped back, surprised. He looked up at Leonardo and then his eyes flicked immediately to me.

"Hey Abigail; how are you?" and I rushed over to hug him. I didn't realize how much joy seeing him could bring me. Really, in this day and age, we weren't meant to show this much affection at all, but he picked me up, laughing all the while.

"What are you doing here?" I said when he'd finally put my down.

"Mario sent me; he's been worried sick since you left, and he had me on hold to leave as soon as the third day was over. He's going to be infuriated with you when I return." I groaned. Shit. There was no way I was getting out of this one.

"So what happened there anyway?"

"I guess I just forgot…"

"I'm just the messenger, but if you mind him never letting you go somewhere on your own again, than you better have your apology rehearsed by the time you return. I'd also plan to be in for an earful."

"It was just once. Things were happening and I was busy!"

"Alright. I just hope that's going to be a good enough reason for him." I winced, and then looked over to Leonardo. I mentally slapped myself.

"Arturo, meet Leonardo. He's the talent of the century." I said, smiling.

"Oh please, Abigail. That's hardly the case." He chastised, while shaking the guy's hand. He looked like a dwarf in comparison to the mercenary.

"The talent of the century? You're a painter then, I suppose?" Arturo said, looking around the room. Leonardo was really polite.

"Yes, indeed. And you are…?"

"I'm a mercenary." Leonardo shot me a look, and I knew _exactly_ what it meant. I had some explaining to do.

"He works for Ezio's uncle, in Monteriggioni. I spent a lot of time there."

"Ah, of course." Leonardo nodded and shook his hand. And then we all awkwardly stood around for a moment, wondering what to do now.

"Maybe we should go out, and get out of Leonardo's hair." I turned to Leonardo. "I'll let you continue your work without interruptions." I smiled, and Leonardo again had that bashful face on. I led Arturo toward the door, but Leonardo called out to me just before I opened the door.

"Abigail…. Perhaps you ought to wear one of your nice dresses?" My eyes went wide, and I looked down, blushing violently as I did so. I was still in my bed clothes.

It did turn out to be quite a beautiful day. Arturo and I walked with arms linked, to the centre of the city, to the Rialto Bridge. We didn't really bother with masks, because he was dressed like every other mercenary, and I didn't have my lovely dress on.

"So why _did_ you come to Venice?"

"Seriously? Just to check on you. Nothing more." I stole a sideway glance, and it occurred to me that he was actually a little bit good-looking. Dressing as he was made him appear _huge,_ but he wasn't that much bigger than Ezio. _WHAT. _No. I was not making comparisons, was I? And it felt like déjà vu, too. I could swear I'd thought exactly the same thing before.

Arturo noticed that I'd gone quiet.

"What's on your mind?" and I shook my head to free myself of this reverie.

"How long are you staying in Venice? Maybe we could see what game is on tonight, dance like everyone else. Just be normal for a night." I asked, leading over to a stall selling flowers.

"Abigail…" he tugged on my arm and we stopped. I looked up to him with a furrowed brow.

"Why aren't you staying in the Thieves' Guild with Ezio?" he asked me.

"Because… I prefer Leonardo. He's gorgeous, and he's told me that I'm welcome any—"

"That isn't the reason. I wouldn't expect you to choose doing nothing every day of your life, over fighting for the cause. What happened to the year you spent training for this? What happened to you wanting to be invincible, better than—"

"I was wrong, okay. I decided that when I got here, I didn't want to spend it ending peoples' lives. Did you see the look on the child's face when her mother told her to go back inside?" Visions from San Gimignano floated back up to meet me.

"What are you hiding?" he said quietly, holding both of my shoulders in his lean hands and searching my eyes for something, anything, really. I refused to return the eye-contact.

"What did he do?" he barely whispered.

"Nothing." I said firmly. I could feel my cheeks burning, and he let go of my shoulders, letting me turn to look at some lovely Ambrosias that were just coming into season.

"I'm sorry. I just thought perhaps I could help." And I shrugged without looking at him, smiling half-heartedly. I let my hand drop from the flower petal and moved on to the next stall.

"So, what are your thoughts on Leonardo?" and I gasped, my mouth flying open.

"Nothing at all!" I exclaimed. "Why… are you interested?" and he looked genuinely offended, like I'd just cut his arm off.

"That isn't funny, Abigail." He chastised me. Oh. Right. I may have forgotten that homosexuality was far more than frowned upon here. I think it almost classed as ironic, because there were rumours that Leonardo _was_ gay. History books suggested it, but… he'd never really shown any interest in it. It's not as if he really showed any sign of sexuality, to be honest. He never looked at another person like that, male or female. Then it occurred to me that I was thinking about Leonardo in that manner. What was going on today?

"I know, I apologize." I said, and link my arm through his again, leading us off the bridge and into the west of town.

"I've never really been down this way before. I wonder what it's like." It was true. I'd never really ventured much farther than from what I knew. It was all mostly the west, and only as north up as the Della Seta, and probably as south as the Rialto. I didn't think that there was much else to see. I took Arturo's visit as a reason to try it.

"Are you sure we should then? We might get lost."

"I have a fair idea of my way around. As long as we don't go down any side streets, I think we'll be fine." And we walked. I asked about Claudia, because I'd imagined that she was growing evermore bored with her role in the villa. Maria was recovering, of which I was glad. I hoped that the next time Ezio saw her, they could speak like they had before… everything had happened. I went to great lengths to avoid bringing up Ezio; he hadn't caught on that we were together the last time we were both in Monteriggioni.

A few of the other mercenaries had started venturing further and further away from the villa; instead of taking a few days, it'd take them a week or two at a time to do a job and return. Few had even reached Sicily and that area. I was surprised, but at the same time, it meant my horizons were expanding. Maybe I could have gone back, and began to travel, find work wherever I may; I'd honestly considered it, but now I just wanted to get through the week. I'd plan my next move after the week was through, and I'd been and gone to all the best parts of Carnevale.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow." He said finally, as we finished circling back to the Rialto.

"So soon?"

"Well, strictly speaking, I shouldn't have been sent to do a courier's job."

"But you chose to, didn't you?" I raised an eyebrow as I leant against the bridge side again.

"Well… yes. But it was only because Mario doesn't really have a courier." He was trying to defend himself. I'd always been aware that he was fond of me, but I wasn't sure how far that extended. I decided I didn't want to test it.

"And he didn't have someone else? Someone…" I looked him up and down. "Lighter, perhaps?" I smiled.

"I'm surprisingly light, I'll have you know. I—" he cut himself off, realizing that I was simply having a go at him. He wasn't very well adapted to my behaviour, even though it had been months we'd spent together. Really, since I'd informed Mario that I wanted to abandon the traditional female role and fight alongside his brothers, I was expected to be treated like them, with few exceptions. As for Arturo, I slowly opened up to the guy, and regained some of my old antics, a lot of which he had to understand how to understand them. The first month was sluggish.

"The hilarity is truly lost on me." He sighed.

"Well. Your descendants would understand." He never understood when I said that.

We fell quiet, both leaning on the rails as the sun reached late afternoon. He knew how to make time fly, for sure.

"Would you like to come back with me?" he asked.

"Why do you want me to come back so badly? Mario hasn't asked it, and Ezio hasn't requested it, and they always seem to be the big deciding factors in this mess."

"I just wanted to ask." So it wasn't someone putting him up to it, it wasn't about me being in trouble, or anything in between. He just wanted to know.

Silence. I watched an aged woman, probably very rich, by her attire, float from store to store browsing. She was looking for something, but I couldn't quite pick what. I followed her every move, and I think Arturo might have said something, but I couldn't look away. There was something positively fascinating about this woman. I just couldn't put my finger on it. She turned sharply, and her skirts flurried up into the air, and I saw a hint of it. It was like she was tinged blue. I blinked sharply, once, twice, three times, but I couldn't see it again. And then the colour was there again in my periphery; if I had've turned my head any faster, I would've snapped my neck.

But nothing. A group of courtesans were enticing the men who walked past. I looked back to the woman, but she was nowhere to be seen. A hand was laid on my shoulder, and I knew it was Arturo, but I still jumped.

"What are you looking for?" he said, but I kept searching for the woman. I resolved on the fact that she'd definitely left the bridge, and I answered him.

"Nothing. Just thought I saw something weird."

"Are you sure there's nothing wrong?" He asked, concernedly. I sighed, rolling my eyes.

"I promise, there's nothing."

"So why did Ezio do the same thing earlier that you're doing now."

"You said you didn't go to see him!" I all but yelled, now close to outrage.

"How do you think I knew where you were? You told Mario you'd be staying _with_ Ezio, _at _the thieves' guild."

"Yeah, and then when I got here he was already half in another girl's pants." I blurted out. That probably gave away everything. I could practically hear the cogs ticking away in his head.

"So… that means you loved him."

"Yes." I said, looking straight ahead, then to him. Smiling, weakly.

"Did he know?" but did he know what? I didn't know what he was asking, so I just dropped it, shrugging my shoulders and led him off to dinner.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: I'm going to be on a camp next Saturday, so I'm not updating at all next week. You'll have to wait two weeks, cause then I have time to catch up! Sorry! x**

I invited Leonardo out with us after dinner, but he declined, because he was "behind on his work". I wasn't sure how you could know that, seeing that he painted pictures for a living, but I didn't push it. I showed Arturo the festivities, the kind of things that people here spent every day doing; most of his life consisted of fighting as he was paid, so the glamour of it all was lost on him a lot. I could tell he was uncomfortable a lot of the time, so I didn't try getting him to dance.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" I asked him, applauding the musicians as the song ended.

"Yes." He was doing that thing that people do when they don't want to hurt someone's feelings by saying no, but aren't very good at pretending either.

"Would you like to go?" I asked, turning to him. He looked bashful.

"Yes." And so we did. I managed to make us meander back to the bridge, as it was still populated, but not with the full force of the festivities.

"Better?" I asked him.

"Muchly." He replied, already loosening up, and leaning on the railing. I yawned, and it occurred to me that I didn't know how late it was. I rubbed my eyes, and again, caught a glimpse of blue—shining, bright, beautiful blue, like a neon light. My head snapped around, and it disappeared.

"I think maybe I should get back. I'm a little bit tired." I was partied-out.

"I'll escort you."

"But where are you staying?" it hadn't even occurred to me before.

"In the Palazzo Della Seta." And that stopped all protests that he should stay near me. I just sort of, cut off everything I was about to say.

"Will I see you in the morning?"

"I think not. I leave at dawn." I frowned, as we turned a corner and wound up just metres from Leonardo's front door. I noticed none of the windows were illuminated, and so turned to say goodbye to Arturo much earlier. I also noticed that we were under a roof, sort of. The square-yet-arched walk-way, which raised a single unpleasant memory and the corresponding feeling in my gut. Arturo took my hand and kissed it, bidding me farewell in such a lovely way. I watched him, leaning on the wall, until he left my sight completely.

Sighing, I turned back and headed for the door. I was a little bit paranoid, but I could _swear_ I heard some scuffling, maybe across the rooftops, I don't know. I simply quickened my pace, and upon reaching the door, tried to open it. It wasn't unlocked, so I knocked loudly, and with every second I waited, I grew intensely more paranoid. There was no one in the small courtyard outside. I couldn't see anyone on the rooves. I was constantly checking, again and again. I kept one eye constantly on the two entrances, and when I turned around, I found the door open and Leonardo in front of me. I yelped with the shock; I hadn't heard him open the door, I'd been focusing so hard on my surroundings.

Leonardo didn't really say anything, but let me in, and the first thing I did after the door was closed was hug him. I took him by surprise, but he returned it, patting my back for a few seconds before pulling away with both hands on my shoulders.

"What's wrong?" he asked me, focusing on my eyes as much as he could in the dim light.

"Nothing." I replied, sighing, with a smile. "Nothing at all."

"Are we going out tonight, by any chance, or are you still behind on work?" I asked Leonardo, flicking through a book written entirely in Latin. The pictures were interesting enough, but I had no hope of being able to read the text. The sun was shining high in the sky, causing rich, golden light to filter in through the windows. Amazingly enough, Leonardo didn't push the whole "nothing at all" thing the night before.

"I'm afraid I cannot; I have someone important coming over much later. However you're free to go, if you like." I sat there, swinging my legs for a moment, and then shut the book.

"Who's coming over?"

"Only a client. She's a lovely woman, if you'd like to stay and meet her." But I shook my head. I was really at a loss of things to do, but I wasn't _that_ desperate. I'd just go out again tonight without Leonardo, and hopefully they had another set of games on.

I left long before nightfall, and immediately embraced the festivities. This was simple, easy. It was far nicer that the life that Ezio's uncle would have me go down. But when I thought about it, it was really my decision. I was the one who pushed through the training. I didn't collapse into a heap in the dirt on the first day for nothing—did I? All the thinking caused me to fall out of step with the music, so I shook it off and found a new partner.

At first, I simply smiled politely, but then a pang of recognition stabbed me, and I missed a step in the dance, causing him to give me a strange look. I didn't know his name, but his face, who he was associated with, caused the blood to fall from my face, and my entire body to turn cold. It was almost painful to continue to dance, and it was only then that the song ended, and I breathed a sigh of relief. We applauded the musicians, and I moved over to the edge, where there were people retiring to seats.

I played with the frills of my skirt for a moment, before I noticed that someone had indeed approached me. I looked up, and it was him. Alarm bells all but screeched in the back of my head, and for a moment, I forgot that I was wearing a mask, and when I remembered, my heart rate slowed at least a little bit.

"It is a beautiful night, much like yourself, _signorina_." He said, tipping his head. What a sad excuse for a pick-up line.

"There is little in the world that can be gained with beauty." I said, hoping he'd get the point that I wasn't interested. It wasn't only the interest, it was the fact that he was an enemy. I was afraid of what he'd do next, every single second.

"I do hope that a dance is one of those few things. May I?" he asked, extending his open hand. I opened my mouth to reply, but I was cut off by the announcer, and I looked up to the sky and silently thanked the announcer. The man, who was _huge_, mind you, held out his hand and helped me to my feet, turning to the announcer revealing the last and final game; simple beat up all the other contestants. Okay. That didn't sound particularly interesting to me. I considered simply going home, but two things happened; firstly, a thought struck me that Ezio would be in the competition for sure. What if he got hurt? My heart twinged unintentionally, and I concentrated hard on trying to shrug it off. At the same time though, outside my head, there was this man, the second thing.

"I'm afraid that is my calling, signorina. May I ask, if you happen to be free now to watch me win, would you be so inclined as to join me in attending a ball later this evening?" I looked him straight in the eye, without even thinking, and smiled. He seemed like the kind of person who _never_ got told no; this is why I said yes, of course. He positively frightened me.

"Of course. But please, first, what name may I call you?" I asked. That was my best attempt at squeezing a person for information ,and at the moment, it was seeming relatively effective.

"I am Dante. And what name may I call such a beautiful creature?" he said, taking my hand and kissing it. For a moment, I hesitated, as I hadn't a name that I wished to give him. I made a quick lie, with the quickest name I could come up with.

"Cristina." I smiled.

"In that case, Cristina, I am afraid I must leave you. But do stay for the festivities, and afterward, perhaps I can get to know you better." He bowed, courteously, and left me to my own devices. My mind ran laps around itself, struggling to comprehend what just occurred; I just got invited to a party by a rather dashing man. The only problem is, he was a Templar, and I doubted his intentions were very honourable. The man, my torturer, must have put him up to this. He must know. And he's probably hiding here somewhere, waiting for Dante to have me alone so they can take me again. Memories flooded up and for a moment I had to sit down.

And then I heard the games begin.

People gathered 'round, laughing, applauding, genuinely interested and enjoying the "sport". I didn't enjoy boxing in 2012 and I certainly didn't enjoy it now; but at least boxing had rules. This was just a matter of seeking blood.

Somewhere, a bell rang, and I was snapped out of my thoughts. I rushed to join the crowd, pushing through until I was at the very front. Ezio was the first in the rink, and for the first time it didn't surprise me at all that he was there. The first man he took down with ease, and within twenty minutes, he was on his fourth contestant. People all around were awed by his skill, but really, the only thing I was really feeling was worry. I flinched whenever one of his opponents managed to get a hit in, which was only really twice. Just as I thought it, another fist was whammed into his face, and my hands flew to my face to stop me from squeaking.

But his opponent was finally floored, and he stepped back. The judge stepped in to declare another win, and then Dante stepped into the ring.

For a moment, I froze completely. It didn't occur to me that they'd have to actually go head to head like this. And I didn't know who I was more worried about, but Dante was _huge._ If he hurt Ezio, and then I let him take me to a party, I don't know what I'd do. I couldn't go. I could just leave now. But if Ezio won? Then Dante probably wouldn't be in any kind of condition to go to a party. Perhaps I could manage to work my way out of it. But the only option I really had was to stay.

Dante threw the first punch, and it missed narrowly. Ezio was clearly on the defensive, by his stance, and the way he refused to get too close. Nothing was happening, Dante tried again and again to hit Ezio, to no avail, until he threw out his fist, and it got caught. Ezio brushed it to the side and struck him in the gut, and for a moment I was surprised it did any damage with all those clothes on.

Dante recovered and they sparred, each hit making me flinch with the impact, until Dante was looking like he'd had enough. They were both very, very good fighters, but it seemed that Ezio was better. One more hit, and Ezio punched him once, twice, three times, and he fell to the floor. All was silent; everyone in the audience could hear their neighbours' breaths.

Dante was down for the count, yes, but he was still kicking. He raised himself up onto his hands, and then to his knees and finally to his feet. A familiar red hood could just be seen near the judge, and then, a large group of guards, maybe ten of them, all gathered round and headed into the rink. Of course, I knew this wasn't planned. To the other audience members though, it was simply another challenge. Dante returned to his master's side like a pup, and I knew if I had a chance to leave, it was now. But I couldn't walk away, in case Ezio got hurt.

He didn't. The guards drew blades, which startled the onlookers, but Ezio didn't get hit once. Surprisingly, the guards weren't skilled enough to completely overcome him. They dropped, one after one, and Ezio was on a roll that made him deadly like no other. It reminded me of myself, not even a week ago. I wanted to train to be the best. I wanted to be able to outdo Ezio in every way. I wanted to be faster, tougher, prettier—I definitely won in that area—and just better in general. If I hadn't stopped, I'd be there right now. I wouldn't settle for his counterpart; I'd be my own—I stopped that train of thought. The only word I could think of to finish that sentence was "hero". I stopped before I got far ahead of myself.

And finally, Ezio was the last man standing. He resheathed his sword, and spoke quickly with the judges. I couldn't help but notice how Ezio looked in my direction, straight at me, but I pretended not to notice, and moved on quickly.

Not ten minutes later, Ezio stood behind the announcer on the stage, waiting to claim his prize. The crowd hushed in anticipation.

"Signore e Signori! The Games of Carnevale have come to a conclusion. Come see our winner claim his prize!" I could see from the left of the stage, Dante approaching with his master, and it didn't click in my mind until the announcer didn't say the right name. The audience booed in uproar; it took me by surprise completely, when it really shouldn't have. Dante claimed the golden mask, and held it high over his head, proud of his false claim. I decided I didn't really like the man. But then he laid his eyes on me, and I realized I hadn't left yet. No, I was in this for the night now.


	28. Chapter 28

**Long weekend, yay! Happy Melbourne Cup Day to all! **

I returned to the place I was sitting beforehand, and waited expectantly, because Dante would rock up. I knew it. And the problem was, I had to act like I was interested. Euck.

I sat there, awkwardly trying to not look like I was interested at all with the world, looking down at my skirt, when a sudden wave of nausea rolled over me. For barely a second, my vision clouded in streaks of blue and red, and I squeezed my eyes shut, ridding my head of it. My eyes refocused on a pair of feet. This pair of feet, connected to one of the many people I was completely disinterested in seeing at this time. He didn't even bother with a "how are you?". Asshole.

"What did he say to you?"

"That's none of your business." I snapped.

"I feel that it is, considering—"

"Considering what?" I asked, incredulous. Maybe he'd have a good reason... or maybe he was just being pathetic; I had no way of knowing yet, really.

But then he froze. For a moment, I froze with him, because I knew exactly what this meant, but he simply bowed to me and said "Good day, signora." and walked off, leaving me completely confused. I had a strong frown on my face when Dante found me, and immediately I found composure.

"Was that man bothering you, Signorina?"

"No, no, it's perfectly fine. He just seemed to have lost his way and required directions." I replied, a slight smile on my face. Maybe it would be nice if I just let go of Ezio for tonight, and accepted that a relatively powerful man took an interest in me. Sure, it was completely superficial, but that was enough for me. If I never participated in Assassin activity again, he'd never have to know that I was really his enemy. There was still a risk but... one night couldn't hurt.

"It isn't important." I pushed, encouraging him to get on with it.

"In that case, Cristina, may I have the honour of you at my side for this evening?" And I had no hopes of refusing. His stare froze me, and I was afraid to do anything but comply.

"Of course you may." I smiled at him, and he took my hand, linking our arms. We departed the party for a richer part of town; you could tell because as we went, the dresses became increasingly more elaborate. I started to become self-conscious, because my dress was fairly simple. I didn't want to wear the same dress in front of the same people two nights consecutively, so I hadn't worn the one that I'd brought in secret. I was saving it for tomorrow.

Something blue flashed again, just for a second, but Dante didn't notice my reaction. As it turns out, we met up with company, including the man in the red hood. He didn't seem to recognise me, and when his face finally fell in the light of a nearby lamp, my stomach sort of rolled in on itself. It wasn't him. It wasn't the Spaniard, it wasn't my torturer. I thanked whoever the hell was listening up there, and for the first time that night, I smiled. For real. We continued happily along, until Dante decided to check if he still had the mask, and as it turned out, he didn't.

"Cursed Assassin!" he yelled, but of course, I had to play dumb.

"What has happened, _signore_? Might I be of assistance somehow?" I asked, clutching onto his arm.

"Nothing at all, _bella_. A thief has managed to take some of my coin, is all." I put my hand over my mouth like I was shocked.

"Will we still be able to continue to the party?" I think I did the right thing. He didn't exactly answer my question, but ensured me we'd meet at the party later.

"You." He chose a random guard standing around. "Please escort these fine women to the festivities. Let them in on the authority of Marco Barbarigo." And I was left with two women, both dressed in extremely rich clothing, and about as much intelligence as I had elegance. I groaned internally, and the guard plodded along happily with the three of us trailing behind him. He looked quite pleased with himself, as if it wasn't obvious.

And then we arrived. We stood for a few moments outside the place, aware that the only way to get in or out involved a guard. And they seemed particularly tense. We were granted entry, and the ring leader scrutinized each one of us as we passed in between them, and through the door. At first, I was hit by a wall of shock, and my vision blurred in fits of red. I chose to take the closest seat, and sat there for a moment, afraid to move but for the fear of falling.

It passed, and by the time I looked up, I granted myself the chance to look around, and fully take in my surrounds. It was incredible.

Like on the streets, there were lines of lanterns ridding the sky of its darkness. Huge, colourful, expensive decorations covered walls, plants. It took me a moment to realize that instead of a table of decorations, there was food. Goblets of wine were being passed around by the tray load. I gathered the strength to move from the seat, and advanced further into the place, wondering where to begin. The food table seemed inviting enough. And of course, someone had the thought to speak to me.

Immediately, the man took notice of my accent, and asked where I can from. I lied.

I had to make up a whole story for myself. Farm girl in England, moved to France at a young age to live with family I've never met. Middle-class family, stretched out all over Europe. Educated, looking to marry. Staying with friend of the family. Probably really cliché of me, but here, it wasn't a cliché. Yet.

"Ah yes, I have a brother who would be most pleased to meet your acquaintance. If you'll excuse me signora." I curtsied and he bowed, and I was left alone. Oh god. But there was already the one guy who wanted me as his play thing. I decided to head to the nearest group of people and engage in conversation, in the hopes that I wouldn't be found by my newest… acquaintance, and his brother. The only way I could really explain how it made me feel to know that almost every male I met wanted to wed me off as a housewife, was always someone relative to being a toy. It felt wrong in every sense to me, this idea of control. It gave me a leash, where I needed an open field. I shivered.

Ezio stuck out like a sore thumb. At first I looked at him, and I didn't realize it was him. He didn't do the ninja fade-into-the-background kind of thing, he was well visible. It was just he way he acted, and the way he stood. The guards were shallow as anything, so they weren't looking for faces, they were looking for someone making a break for it. He slinked from group to group, following in the wake of waiting staff, and wanderers. He caught my eye, and I scrutinized him for a minute, just because at the moment I had a genuine chance.

He approached the circle, and the two men closest to him gave him funny looks out of the corner of their eyes, but said nothing. He had the long robes on his back, so no guard decided to pull him up on his front. There were probably twenty guards looking at him right now, and thinking nothing of it. They're looking for someone, but they haven't any idea what he looks like. I smiled.

He quirked an eyebrow at me, and I went to respond with the same, however I got tapped lightly on the shoulder, and turned to look at the man, who'd now found his brother. I got the impression that Ezio chose to move on, and relaxed a bit in the knowledge I had slightly _less_ chance of being compromised as he got further away from me. So both of the men in front of me had masks on, but the brother was the larger of the two, with broad shoulders and lovely eyes. The mutual acquaintance introduced us, and we spoke lightly for but a few moments, until I caught Dante's eye.

So he was here.

He began to stride his way over, and I hurriedly excused myself from the conversation, wanted to meet him half-way.

"Why haven't you joined in the festivities, Dante? Haven't you another mask to wear?"

"I'm afraid it is not that simple, signora." He said, refusing to tell me more. I pushed for it.

"But why? It was probably stolen by a poor man who wanted to be fed tonight."

"Do you see any poor men here?" he asked me in a hushed voice, gesturing to the crowd. I looked around for a moment, and picked out Ezio like a rock in a haystack. Fortunately for him, Dante didn't know where to look, or what to look for. The two brothers were trying to be inconspicuous as they glanced over in our general direction.

"No, I don't. Maybe he has not arrived?" He pulled me away from the majority of people by the shoulder, and left his hand there, uncomfortably enough for me.

"There is someone already here. He is very dangerous, and the men at the doors tell me that there have been 50 golden masks go through the doors tonight. So he is here, and he is up to something." He told me, almost whispers. My eyes widened at the appropriate parts, and I feined shock.

"Is he… the man they talk about? The heralds. They say he's completely evil." My voice slowly raised in pitch, and for a moment it was very close to genuine. Dante sought to calm me.

"Hush, signorina, it will be fine. There are less than a hundred people here tonight, and after Marco has spoken his piece, I will escort you to your home. I would hate for you to see anything… unpleasant." There was a really tiny part of me that just wanted to slap the guy.

"Maybe I should leave early. Perhaps I could meet you again tomorrow." I tried to save myself from staying much longer, but just then, none other than Marco Barbarigo stepped out of the boat at the edge of the party. We both halted the conversation and turned toward him, and a saw a group of prostitutes—probably better to call them courtesans though—advance toward the boat. Marco's speech took a matter of three minutes, and when he'd finish, the fireworks went off. They were as spectacular as they were in my time. Probably even moreso. But that's not what people were screaming about.

Marco was dead. The guards found Ezio immediately, but he jumped into the canal and started swimming. More than twenty guards stood awkwardly at the edge of the land, wondering whether they should go after him. One guy even fell in, and I had to stop myself from laughing.

"Get out of here, signorina. Stay at home tomorrow night, and stay safe." He said, at first kissing my hand, but then he pushed me toward the exit. "Go!" he yelled, marching off to find his master. I turned, and bunching up my skirts in my hands, ran for it. Everyone was freaking out, so it didn't look that out of place. I ran until my legs just about gave out, and then I looked for something familiar. Anything would do. I didn't have a clear idea of where I was, but I had a feeling I was going to pretty soon.

I stopped for a moment to catch my breath, and leant on the closest wall. I retraced my steps in my head, and it hit me where I was. I reached Leonardo's door without incident; and he was still up, painting. He looked me up and down, noticing that my hair was windblown from running.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, letting me in.

"Yes. Ezio decided to crash a party, is all." I said, plonking down in one of the seats.

"The idiot decided to go for a swim afterwards aswell." I untied my mask.

"You shouldn't call him that. It's his job." He scolded.

"Self-appointed duty."

"Inherited."

"Whatever." I said, frowning. The thought of Ezio reverted back to annoying me again, now that I wasn't in possible danger by his presence. Leonardo was reading a book, as it turned out. I sighed, and decided to go to bed. I'd need it if I was going to stay up late tomorrow. Beauty sleep was a must.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled at Leonardo before turning to the stairs. I was sure he heard, but he didn't reply. I spent a lot of time just lying in bed that night. How the hell was I going to get rid of Dante? He would probably show up everywhere for the next five years, until the Templars have completely annexed or been flushed out of Venice. Really, if I just hoped I wouldn't see him tomorrow, maybe I could get by.

My dreams were strange that night. There was always this constant flash of blue, sometimes red, and then at one point, there was gold. And there was this compulsion to journey toward it. I did, I couldn't control myself, but every time I ventured closer, it got farther and farther away. I called out to it, I reached and reached. Ran and ran. And then I had to jump. That gold was falling, and so I did too. The ground came up below me—

Silence.


	29. Chapter 29

**I'm just gonna put it out there (incase people haven't noticed) but I update on the same day every week. Saturdays, Melbourne time! Just saying! ;)**

At first I thought my sense of hearing was completely gone. But then everything was blue, and it was like the world rippled back neatly underneath me. White noise turned into the same sound I heard every morning. I all but flew out of the bed, and landed on the floor with a distinct _thud._ I crawled to get away from the bed, and by the time I realized what was going on, I was breathing heavily in the very corner, with my back against one wall and my head leaning on the other.

What the hell was going on?

My head started to pound, and I struggled with my head between my hands for a time, but it never ended. Unrelenting. I didn't even attempt to move. I could swear I heard Leonardo's call, but I felt like I was being pulled between two realities. My skull was splitting in half.

I didn't even know I was crying. I had to feel Leonardo's cold hands on either side of my face before I knew he was even there.

"What is it? What's wrong, Abigail?" but I couldn't reply. I couldn't. He tried to pry me out of the corner but I just would not go, and even then he just tried to pull my hands away from my face. I'd feel horrible for this later, but all I could think about was my head. Leonardo closed the shutters, and the room was devoid of all light. It made only the slightest of changes.

I don't know how long I sat there; it was somewhere between ten minutes and five hours, but I couldn't pin it down further than that. I could swear in amongst it all, I saw Ezio, except he was wearing clothes from my time, and he was clean-shaven. I woke up again, and a cold cup of coffee sat by my bedside. I could feel my blood pulsating behind my ears, and I was too weak to stand, so I didn't try to leave the bed. I curled up in a ball, and waited for Leonardo to return, hoping it would be soon.

Half an hour passed, and the door creaked open. A stream of light cut the room in half, and for a moment, I wasn't sure what was going to happen. Leonardo crept in, and the door closed, leaving us in utter darkness. He filled the seat beside my bed, and leant forward with his hands on his knees.

"Abigail?" he whispered.

"Yeah?" I croaked weakly.

"Are you okay?" he looked straight into my eyes, or he did from what I could tell in the dim lighting.

"I think."

"What happened?" he asked, taking one of my hands and covering it with both of his. I shook my head in meaning to say _I don't know. _He patted my hand twice, and let it go.

"Can I open the shutters?" and again, I shook my head. He sighed, and moved toward the door. I may aswell have been dying, for the way he was acting.

"…Leonardo?" I croaked out before he managed to slip out. I could hear him freeze in the doorway.

"I'm sorry." I said, and rested my head on the pillow again.

I think I heard him reply, but it was awfully quiet. I must've fallen asleep again, because when I came around, the shutters were open, and the moonlight was startlingly blue. Physically, I was fine. I couldn't remember my dreams anymore, and I hadn't that headache. It had just completely vanished. I fell out of bed in a mad rush to head downstairs. Leonardo had left a ticket by my mask, with a note mentioning that he didn't want to wake me.

I raced up the stairs and tied my hair back; it could be done last. The dress was much, much harder to work. I had to step into to, and then tie it up at the back, and then make it sit right. It must've taken me a great deal of time, because when I'd finished, I could swear the moon had moved considerably.

It was probably the quickest that I'd ever gotten ready for something ever, in my life. Fifteen minutes from when I officially had the dress on, I was out the door. I took a key and shut the door behind me. I decided to take a few knives with me, just in case, aswell.

This particular dress was probably the most lavish thing I'd ever owned and worn; it had about 5 layers of skirts, the innermost made of the finest silks found in the era. The outermost layer had small amounts of whale bones stitched into the bodice for shape retention. Altogether, it costed a fortune, and I really believed that this was the only chance I'd have to _really_ wear it. My other dresses were nice, but nothing like this. I'd even asked for concealed blade-shaped pockets, which cost me about a hundred extra florins. The seamstress was angry about it, but since I was willing to pay, she obliged.

The ball wasn't too far away; it was in the Dorsoduro district, where I was the previous night. When I arrived, I almost didn't want to go inside; the place was just so beautiful. I didn't even know if it was some kind of important land-mark, but I knew it was beautiful. I reached the doors, and the men on either side of the door went to halt me. I flashed the small, gold-laden square of parchment and they let me pass through. I hid the ticket in one of the more un-classy places.

It wasn't an exclusive party like the Doge's had been the night before. The tickets were both given out, and purchased. Leonardo's connections earned him two for free, and I was incredibly glad, because they were very expensive. Really, the price ensured that the poor folk couldn't get in, which I felt was tragic. All the same, there was the reality that the majority of the noble class didn't enjoy to mix with the poorer classes, because they were uneducated and stereotypically uncouth. It defeated the point of Carnevale, and everyone here completely missed it. It was just another party. Nobody was supposed to know anyone else anyway.

The interior of this building was a dream. There were chandeliers with lit candles, huge buffets running down the entire back wall, and _so many people. _I had to walk up a flight of stairs, and then when I was inside, go back down stairs into the main chamber. Any way of getting out of the building involved going up stairs. The place was teeming with people, and everywhere, there was a yellow glow of candles. There were enough candles here to last a single family ten years. I don't know why they didn't just install gas lights. It gave off a mysterious atmosphere though… and I loved it.

I let my skirts fall their full length to the floor, and weaved in amongst the people. Women boasted feathers that towered far above their already huge hair. I felt like a child in a china shop; everything's so beautiful, but you can't touch it. I circled the room once, searching for Leonardo, and just when I was starting to begin thinking he wasn't here, a light tap fell onto my shoulder. I turned, and Leonardo stood, positively giddy, staring at me.

"You look beautiful tonight, my dear." I smiled, bowing back at him.

"I'd say the same for you." And he took my hand.

"Come. I have someone I'd like you to meet." And he whisked me away into the night. Time passed incredibly fast. The person he introduced me to, had me very nearly in tears. Alessandro Botticelli; the man who painted the Birth of Venus. He kissed my hand, and we engaged in small talk for some time. Really, it was so hard to act like I didn't know him prior. Honestly, I could only tell you the one painting by heart, and I didn't even know the year, so I couldn't even speak of it. Leonardo was really my main guy, and I was living with him at the moment. If my art teacher believed this.

There weren't any speeches or formal greetings for this party by a host of some kind—or if there was, I'd missed them completely. Leonardo made a point to ask how I was, and I told him that I'd recovered. I still didn't know what had happened, and I wasn't nearly prepared to tell him I was seeing things, but I moved the conversation quickly. Someone had paid real musicians over the terrible minstrels on the streets to play for this, and there were more than ten of them on a stand built specially for the scenario. I didn't see a single face; everyone had a mask. I made the effort to stay by Leonardo.

There was a flash of red, and I squeezed my eyes shut. He picked up on it immediately, tightening his grip on my hand. But it was only for a second. We reached the food table, and I reached for a strawberry, delicately pulling back all the green leaves. Just as I went to bite into it, a foreign, but not recognisable voice appeared in my ear. I had to cough the strawberry back up, without getting it down my front.

"Behind you." And I turned around. Dante, in all his huge and completely unsubtle manliness was advancing, with his eyes fixed on me. Eye contact, and he smile as he drew closer.

For me, it was more like a lion being completely fixated on his prey. As he slowly closed in on me, I began to feel the weight of a thousand eyes. A thousand anonymous eyes. I felt the room getting hotter, but endured. He reached me, and we bowed politely as every other did.

"It was fortunate of me to see you here. Did you arrive home safely last night?" I nodded.

"Yes, though I left with quite a fright." His face turned grey, and I began to wonder if I could get words out of him. Behind him, and a little bit to the right, was Leonardo. I caught his eye and he gestured to somewhere behind him. I nodded ever so slightly at him, and he nodded in reply, turning and heading for that place. So I knew where he'd be when I finally ended this conversation.

"Did you deal with the situation?" I asked, cutting Dante off from his mumbling.

"Yes—well, sort of. In a way." And he left it at that. No details, no elaboration. What was I going to have to pull just for him to leave me alone? This was getting awkward.

"May I?" he asked, taking my hand. I obliged, and he led me onto the dance floor. We joined in with the celebrations. It wasn't extremely elaborate, but lucky enough that I was at the end, so I learned it quickly. When the song ended, again, I was tugged to a new location. It surprised me when the heated room turned into cool night air, and the swelling number of people disappeared.

"You do look quite beautiful this evening." He told me. I could already see where this was heading. He just wanted arm candy. Personally I never thought myself as the type for that.

"Thank you." I said quietly.

"Cristina, what are your thoughts on myself?" Seriously. Fucking _seriously._

"Well, I admit that I do not know you very well."

"Of course. But what do you think, regardless? There must be _something_ running the mind of a woman at all hours." I bit my tongue. Now this was just degrading.

"I find you quite… agreeable." God, I had to grasp at straws for something. Maybe if I could just stretch my way out of this conversation. I didn't care enough about this to stand here complimenting the guy.

"Agreeable? Hmm. Not handsome, or courageous?" I searched for any conceivable reason that he'd want to know this. _One does not simply beg for compliments, _I thought.

"I haven't seen your face properly, nor have I seen you do anything requiring courage." His eyes narrowed. Really? Was he really that vain?

He didn't reply. Or maybe he did, I wasn't sure. Every thought I had was overcome by something else, a compulsion. It reminded me of… gold. I looked back between where my attention was drawn, and Dante, how he stood looking quite unhappy with himself. Or me.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I have to leave." I said, turning to walk away.

"Why can you not stay? The night has only just begun." I took one look at him and walked off. He didn't follow me immediately, but I had about five metres head start.

I was in a hurry. I didn't know why, there was just… something inside me. An urgent need, that had somehow replaced everything inside me. It was like it was all I was, and it was calling to me and I was coming for it. I waded through the crowd of people, narrowly avoiding someone's drink.

And then I saw it. Well, him. He walked off just as I saw him. Outside. _Fantastic. _

I traced the walls, until I found a door. I slipped through it, and turned a corner, and there he was. I disappeared around the corner again, but he was aiming for my general direction. He probably didn't even notice me, but I sure as hell noticed him. He was walking with an entourage, so I did probably what I didn't do best to hide. I climbed.

Or tried to. My shoes were fine but I couldn't get them out from under my dress. I could barely breathe in this and yet, here I was, trying to climb the building.

I abandoned the idea, quickly, and decided to gain a few paces, and turned another corner. Something weird happened then. I don't think I could fluently describe the experience, but it was like I knew exactly where he was. Like the wall was transparent and there was nothing between us. I was leaning against the wall, so what I was seeing in my head must have been something completely different. Well it can't have been reality.

He was almost at the corner now, and I poised to attack.


	30. Chapter 30

**Awkward, I forgot to add it to the story! I uploaded it and everything yesterday! :p Just note, I won't be updating next week, because it'll be in the middle of exams, and I'm afraid I can't chance the time there. Sorry guys, catch you in two weeks! ****And can I just say an incredibly huge thankyou for the reviews, I'm sorry I haven't replied to each individual one, but I have read them. I know this story itself is a little far fetched, but I'm really afraid if I stick to realism, it'll get boring, both to read and write. Aha, I'm trying, though. Thanks so much for everything, guys. Keep being fabulous! :) xoxoxoxoxo**

"Abigail!" Leonardo yelled, and I froze. I had my knife in my left hand, and my right was reaching for another. I could feel him growing closer to the corner, and I flicked back between Leonardo and the corner. I _needed _to. I couldn't will myself to leave. He got closer, closer...

"Abigail, put it away." And he pulled me with a force so surprising that I stumbled toward him. But I was completely out of it, out of that trance. I looked down to my hands, and hastily re-hid the blades in the various layers of the skirt. I could still feel my target's presence—target? That made me sound like Ezio. Oh god. He finally turned the corner, and I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. For the life of me, I didn't turn to face him, which worked in my favour, as he didn't know who I was from behind. But something must have caught his attention, because he didn't walk past me like I'd expected.

He was still there, but he'd stopped. I heard him call "Dante!" really short and snappy, like he was a dog. They probably had a real-people relationship, but it was completely unbeknownst to me, so I was content with assuming he was some kind of idiot, and treated his employees like that too. I rested one hand on my rib cage, which would allow me to unsheathe my blade in one fluid motion. The other, Leonardo held in his hand, attempting to pull me out of the situation. I just couldn't do it.

I let go of his hand and pushed on his palm, gesturing him to go. He complied, after squeezing my hand, and I was left leaning against the wall. I acted naturally, moving away from the wall, and took a seat on a bench, again fuelling this incessant habit of playing with my many skirts. Really, this is why I normally didn't wear dresses. I suppose now I'd have to get used to it. This particular dress, however, limited how far I could lean over, so I kind of hand to lean back and look like a middle-aged man with a beer belly. Minus the belly.

"Cristina!" For half a second, I swear I forgot it was my name. Then my head flicked around, and I felt a hair pin fall out of place. Dante came towards me, looking almost pissed off.

"Was I too forward?" He asked me. It really just absolutely astounded me in every fashion, how the first thing this man thought of, was himself. Unfuckingbelievable. I sighed.

"No, not at all." I flashed him a smile. He took my hand in both of his, and I could already smell his breath from here. He'd had something to drink. I glanced at the ground quickly, and when I looked back, he was concentrating oddly on my hand. I frowned, and he mumbled something under his breath.

"What is it?" I asked, and he peeled back my sleeve. Oh god, he knew what that was. How did he know? It didn't make sense. Had he been told to look for it?

He clamped an infinitely tighter hold on my hand and stood, dragging me to my feet and over to the corner. Of course. To his master, like a puppy with a bone. I tried to free my arm, but holy shit, he was strong. Stronger than Ezio for sure. I began thrashing, and a seam loudly burst along my hip. I gasped, and then pulled a knife from my hip, and flicked it at him.

"She's an—" he began yelling, but something dark and figureless fell down between us. Or really, someone. My arm tore out of his grip, and the blood continued to circulate. I fell into a crouch, feeling more seams rip up my sides, and gathered my bearings. I could barely see what was happening; blue burned so brightly in front of me, it made my head sore.

I coughed thrice and struggled to my feet. A clear punch to the head, and Dante fell back against the wall, not completely out but stunned enough to not do much else. Ezio's form loomed as he slid down the wall. Two guards turned the corner, but Ezio had them both down in under a minute. He grabbed my blade off the floor and helped me to my feet, a little roughly if I do say so myself. I pulled my hand out of his grip.

"I was doing just fine without your help!" I yelled at him, and at first, he threw his hands up.

"No, you weren't. Or else I wouldn't have intervened!"

"I bet you're loving this. Always saving the little one who you think can't hold her own."

"If you can hold your own, then why did you spend three minutes stalking the man I already know how, when, and where to kill?"

"I obviously didn't know you did. You're not exactly an all-star communicator!" A single soldier ran around the corner, and Ezio didn't move from where he was to take him out. He wasn't killing these guys, just incapacitating them.

"As I recall, _you_ told _me_ to never speak to you again!" and I was stumped. There was a loud shuffling sound, and we both looked down at Dante, he began to come around, but Ezio just kneed him in the face. It made a sickening crack as it hit the wall; I cringed at the impact.

"We've got to go."

"I'm not going anywhere with _you_." I spat. For a second, I thought he was going to pounce and knock me out too. And then he roughly pulled on my arm, one solid jolt that had me on my feet. It hadn't occurred to me that with all those stairs, I was actually a story up from the ground. I pushed him back, and caused myself to stumble back. I threw my hands in the air.

"You know what? I hate you. I hate you, and everything you stand for. You think you have this high and mighty—" His hand snapped over my mouth, and he pushed me up against the wall.

"Listen to me." He growled. "I don't care what you think of me. All I wish is to keep you safe, contrary to everything you believe, and I will not let you ruin my attempt to do so. Do not fight me, and the quicker I will be out of your sight." I scowled at him.

"Fine." And he backed off. I stepped away from the wall, and approached the edge of the balcony.

"I can't climb in this." I told him. He didn't reply. Didn't say a word.

"I'm going to have to go out the front door." A guard strolled around the corner at that moment, and I looked at him. Ezio looked at him, too. He looked back and forth between us, and the people on the floor. Oh wow this was awkward.

"Assa—" _Shiiiing!_ Silver flew, and he crumpled to the ground. Ezio dragged him around the corner and out of sight.

"What are we going to do, then?" and when I turned back to him, he was approaching my slowly. There was something about the expression on his face that made me question him.

"Ezio…" I trailed off. He reached me, and without a word, fluidly picked me up.

"YOU PUT ME DOWN AT THIS INSTANT, OR I SWEAR—" And he _threw me off the side of the balcony. _I completely under estimated the lengths he'd go to. It didn't actually occur to me while I was falling through the air, but, I wasn't going to land on the ground. Or in those carts of hay people lazily leave around in the streets. Instead, I was immediately hit with cold, and when I tried to gasp, I began to choke. _He threw me in the fucking CANAL. _

I struggled to stay afloat. I was out of breath and I was freezing and I could barely move. It was even too dark to see which way was up. My throat began to burn, and my lungs felt like they were caving in on themselves. I didn't know which way I was drifting, but in my head it felt like I was going down. Something loud, even for within water, crashed down above me, and in a mass of bubbles got closer, and closer. For a moment, I could tell which way was up.

It would have been beautiful, had I not feared death so much. I could feel myself drowning. The last bubbles of oxygen were leaving my system, and I've never felt anything scarier. I was afraid of the dark, and here I was literally sinking into it. I thrashed around with my eyes closed, because really, I'd always wanted to die fighting. I was in this mindset, this unchangeable meander of thoughts and I couldn't even—

I hit something. Or someone? I didn't know. I couldn't think clearly. At first, there was nothing, but then, I could feel his hands on my hips and this pulling sensation. I was going up. The stars were getting closer. But they were still fading. I closed my eyes in sheer terror of what came next. Lips were on mine for a moment, and at first, I froze up, completely. Then I welcomed it. _Air._ He was giving me air. I gulped it up selfishly, and, it's not that I suddenly gained all abilities back, but the darkness stopped getting closer. Only for a matter of seconds.

We got closer and closer, until I could feel myself touch the surface of the canal. I

The night air, was freezing. I clambered onto my hands and knees and crawled weakly away from the canal. My insides were raw; every breath hurt, and the water continued to just flow out of every part of me like I was a waterfall. I collapsed onto my side, everything I wore was ruined. My entire body shook in horrid revolts; I could barely feel the tips of my fingers. I attempted to crawl as far as I could from the canal, hitting a wall and just staying there, trying to rid myself of the experience forever.

I only got so far though; Ezio seemed to have recovered, but I think he was missing a couple throwing knives. He stood at the point where the thin alley became a wide, populous street, peeking his head around for signs of anyone. At all the major crossroads however, there were groups of guards probably falling asleep on duty as I spoke it. At last, he decided that the coast was clear, and walked back for me. He tried to pick me up, but I snapped at him to not touch me. He complied, taking a step back and crouching in front of me.

"I hate you." I tried to say, but it came out as more of a whisper because of my throat. My eyes teared up.

"We have to leave." And so i got to my feet. I think i'd pulled a muscle in my right leg somewhere, but aside from that and the shivering, i could walk. Just before I hit the mouth of the alley, I froze.

"What?"

"What about Leonardo?"

"I already told him."

"What did you tell him?" I despaired. I dreaded the day where he would think badly of me.

"That you were about to get yourself in trouble. He knew before you turned the corner and found him. You were about to make him a witness to it."

"I couldn't help it. It wasn't me."

"Then who was it, if not you?"

"I—" Stuttered. I couldn't tell him for the same reason I couldn't tell Leonardo. I'd get sent to a loony bin somewhere. Assuming they had those here. Ezio looked at me expectantly, but I shook my head. I shoved him with one hand and continued walking. I turned right onto the main road, and of course, Ezio brought me up on it.

"Wrong way."

"This is the way back to Leonardo's."

"We're not going to Leonardo's."

"Where are we going then!" I yelled. He gave me a warning look that told me if I did it again, I was probably getting carried. Forcibly.

"A friend's."

"What's your friend's name?"

"You will see." I stopped walking, and crossed my arms over my chest. I probably looked like a drowned rat, come to think of it.

"Out of the two of us, I feel it's more ironic if _you_ have a problem with _my_ friends, considering what just nearly happened."

"I could handle myself."

"As you relentlessly claim."

"I can." I insisted, and he looked at me quizzically. For a moment, he looked undecided, but then made up his mind. At the next alleyway, we took a right, and we pressed into a small courtyard, probably someone's outer garden. The walls were high, but I could climb it with only a little trouble. I looked around, no exit aside from the one we'd just come through. I turned to face Ezio with my mouth open, about to ask a question—

_Smack_. I had all the wind knocked out of me. My head hurt the slightest amount, but it really paled when I became fully aware of what was going on. Ezio had managed to get my feet maybe half a metre off the ground, propping me up against the wall with one of his legs between mine. Both of his hands had my upper arms, and his face was too far out of my periphery; all I could hear was his breath in my ear.


	31. Chapter 31

**Hehe, so i'm sixteen now. yay. ^_^ Haha, here's the long awaited chapter! :3**

"Okay. Go for it." And drew his face back to smirk at me. A tiny, _tiny_ part of me thought that maybe, just maybe, I could just move my head forward just a tiny—

No. Out of the question. I tried to wiggle my arms, nothing. I could move my legs, but I couldn't hit him. He was still just inches from my face, so I buckled up and swung forward, hitting his forehead with mine. He barely moved, whereas my balance gave out. I wobbled, and Ezio leaned in again, snide.

"See." And I sighed, looking down, trying to hide my face with my incredibly knotty hair. He couldn't see my face, I thought. I felt one hand lift off my arm, and it pulled my face up. I took the chance. _Fuck it,_ I thought.

His lips were warm, soft, and for a matter of moments I just wanted to give up. I leaned forward completely, and his defences were off. I pulled back, without looking him in the eye.

"Let me down." I asked softly, and he obliged, slowly letting me down the wall until I was on my own two feet. I could tell he wanted to go, he was edging ever closer toward the door, and I humoured him until we got farthest away from all four walls, in the very centre of the courtyard. I struck.

I kicked him forcefully behind the knees, and having been caught off-guard, he buckled. I didn't doubt that he'd recover quickly, so immediately I had both blades in my hands, held across my body, ready. He righted himself, and turned, obviously with the realization that I'd learned something. He looked almost hurt. I stared at him, and he stare back. I swear, there may aswell have been a tumbleweed for all the conversation that was going on. With one of my hands, I made a gesture that said _try me. _And he did.

He approached with confidence and flicked out his blade; his intention wasn't to hurt me. He tried to feign right, but I caught his arm. He started circling me, watching for a point of weakness. I knew exactly what he was doing. He had the advantage though, I could barely move in this dress, and even more so now that I was soaking wet. I shivered. He gestured for me to come forth, but I didn't take it. I flipped my hair behind my ears, and watched him intently. He tried to catch me, kicks and swipes but he couldn't get through. I gained the confidence to stop circling with him, and just relied on my instincts. I don't know how I could tell what he was doing when I couldn't see him, but I just knew.

I turned to face him.

"This is ridiculous. Could we please just—" and pain hit my temples, like something was trying to fold me over into nothing. I dropped my blades, and gasped. My eyes couldn't focus on anything. I couldn't see Ezio properly, but I reached out and I grabbed tightly on his shoulder, for fear of falling over. He grabbed me, and was holding me upright while repeating gently "What's wrong? What's wrong?" but I couldn't answer.

I shook my head, and pushed myself off him, trying to stand up. My legs weren't weak, I just couldn't stay upright. The world wavered and wobbled. I rubbed my eyes and opened them, and all I could see were blue irises, Ezio looking positively shocked.

Blue.

Blue.

Blue.

Black.

I wasn't asleep. I knew what that felt like, and I wasn't. I could feel him. We weren't moving. No, this wasn't sleep at all. But I wasn't cold. I could feel myself, I was completely here, only, it was dark. It was like how people imagine the universe if nothing existed; there was, quite simply, nothing. I looked down and could see my feet, but they weren't really touching anything. I wasn't standing on a surface. Something felt odd in my stomach; I felt upright, but it didn't feel like there was gravity. I couldn't explain it… I was there. But everything around me wasn't.

I spotted something, a little speckle of gold in a sea of black, and I had no choice but to run toward it. As I got closer, it got further away. I pushed harder, until I was breathing heavily, and a sheen of sweat coated my neck. Nothing, it kept going. And then there was blue, shining brighter than a star. It enveloped me completely, making me wonder if maybe I was dead, and this was some deranged hell or something. It's not as if my existence had ever really made any sense from any of this anyway, so I wasn't about to start expecting things. I couldn't help but wonder though.

"Abigail." I froze. I looked around. Nothing.

"Abigail." Again.

"_Abigail." _ I called out. Where was it coming from? I was still cold to the bone and I could feel my clothes were wet but I looked down and they were different. How things felt and how things looked just didn't match up. It got to the point where I was curled up, and I could feel the warmth draining out of me. I just… was. This might have been a nightmare, or it might have been me finally losing it. It could have been that none of it was real, or that everything I knew had just been destroyed, for good. My family, Leonardo, Ezio…

The strange thing about being there, and I don't think I was there for too long, was that time never seemed to pass. I didn't grow tired at all; instead I tired myself out. I stressed myself to the point where I could feel myself passing out. I was glad though; I was so confused, and this was other-worldly. It wasn't real. It couldn't have been. At least, that's what I told myself.

I opened my eyes, and for a moment I forgot everything. The room was dark, but I could see through the window it was either dawn or dusk. The first rays of pink and orange and yellow were lighting up the dark. I could _just_ see the outlines of the furniture around the room. The bed was simple, with ends on both sides, and a large vanity. And then, a chair. For a moment I just stared at it before I squeaked. There was someone sitting in it, and not Ezio.

"Hush child." She said, rising from the chair. I had this hunch that she wasn't dangerous. I couldn't make out a face, but for some reason, the colour blue came to mind. She sat on the bedside, and reached out for my forehead without hesitation.

"You are safe now. How do you feel?" she asked.

"Who are you?" I croaked. She laughed softly.

"All in good time, my dear. Are you hungry? Thirsty?" She asked, straightening the blanket's edge.

"No, thank you." I looked around. "Where am I?"

"Why, you're in the same place as I. I have been asked to care for you." She stood up, off the edge of the bed, and headed toward the door.

"But who are you?"

"You may called me Sister Teodora. Now, you must excuse me for a moment, my child. I must retrieve something." My breath caught at the name. How did she know my name? For a second, I wondered if maybe Ezio had left me somewhere and Dante had found me and recognised me, and found that I wasn't who I claimed to be. I could be in his very house. Oh god. Maybe Ezio was dead. Or I was captured. He could be being tortured right now, and I wouldn't even know it. I tested myself, and it appeared I could walk. The door was unlocked, so I quietly slipped out of it. It wasn't a terribly big house, compared to places I've previously woken up in.

I tried to close the door silently behind me, but it screeched open, closed, and then when I actually shut the door, it made the entire wall rattle. I froze for a moment, listening for someone, anyone. I took three steps away from the door, and then it occurred to me that there wasn't any indication of which way to go. It was just a short corridor with a couple doors and corners on both ends. One probably went up, and the other down, however I didn't know which. I got all the way to the first corner, and it had stairs going up, just like I'd suspected. I looked back around the corner, where I'd just come from, when I heard a door open upstairs.

I could see a small amount of light from the top of the stairs, and then it disappeared, with the sound of a door shutting. A woman was giggling, and immediately I reeled backwards and made a beeline for my room. I leaned my head against the door, listening.

"Oh, stop, Roberto!" Said the woman giddily. He probably said something back, but it was too low a key for me to hear. The woman giggled, and they passed my room. I half expected them to freeze and come and find me, but thery plodded along and around the corner and assumingly down the stairs. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, and back away from the door. I looked around the room for a minute, and then something drew my attention back to the door. I took a step toward it, and it opened right infront of me, Ezio stepping in and closing the door behind him. I took an involuntary step back.

"We have to talk." He whispered. I hesitated. It was bizarre; I loved him and yet I still didn't completely trust him not to lash out at me at any moment. I took a step back.

"...okay."

"What happened?" His eyes were so intense. I couldn't look him in the eye for more than a few seconds at a time.

"I really think you ought to do some explaining first." His eyebrow raised. He did a little humph and pulled up a chair to the bedside.

"Who is she?" I prompted.

"I'm fairly confident you already know, _Cristina_." My eyes flicked up to his. So he knew about my alias. Shit.

"She was probably the only woman I loved, from my old life. There were others I fancied, but I loved her." He said. Not told, not yelled. He admitted it. It was pretty anecdotal, actually.

"She was the girl that every young man in Florence sought after. In fact, Vieri had an interest in her, too. It was probably luck how we met, too. I was terrible with girls, _terrible_. And I was no different with her; in fact she laughed when I first spoke to her." He smiled at some distant memory that I couldn't see. He rose his eyes back up to meet mine, and moved along.

"I saw her for months, up until the day my family was killed at the hands of the Templars. She helped me take care of their bodies. And the last thing that happened... she refused to go with me. She couldn't. She had her own family, and I couldn't pull her away with that. That was the day I met you." He inched closer. At first he was on the edge of the seat, and he was slowly getting closer. I'd sat down on the side of the bed with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands.

"Go on." I said, I think a little too harshly. I was getting hungry and he really wasn't getting to the point.

"So... I came back to Florence every now and again for work. There would be a carrier pigeon that gave me information, and while I was there, I'd occasionally visit her." My heart turned to ice.

"The first time it was fine, but after that, she stopped allowing me to see her. Her father had told her that she needed a husband... And she got one. And then Leonardo told me she was here, in Venice. You know, she had no idea she was kissing me that night, Abigail. She thought I was her husband."

"How can you not know who you're kissing?! You don't just trip and fall onto someone's _mouth_!" He stood up, put a single finger to his lips, trying to hush me.

"It's not _that_ easy, Abigail. You know—"

"And it gave you an excuse, did it? What, you do this every year, and this year it just happened to be someone you knew? You think that you have the right?" I went off at him. I was yelling when I knew we really should be quiet, but I didn't care. This was something that I _needed_ to get off my chest. Rationality was no longer a part of this. I went on for a while, until I had to stop and breathe.

I squeezed my eyes closed.

No crying, Abigail.

"Are you calm?" He asked, barely a whisper. I realized that we were approaching sunrise; Ezio's face seemed to grow more and more defined. I nodded.

"Your turn. Now, what happened? Why did you decide to go after Barbarigo?"


	32. Chapter 32

"I... don't know." He leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms over his chest. He began to tap one of his foot, while staring at me. Just staring.

"I'm serious. I just had to; there was just this horrid, sickly compulsion. I couldn't _not_ try."

"This... compulsion. You couldn't control yourself?" I shook my head.

"And then what happened? After I'd found you?" I racked my brain.

"You mean in the little garden?"

"Yes."

"I don't know." He heaved a sigh of frustration, and threw his hands up, standing up to pace behind the chair.

"You're going to have to come up with something better than that, Abigail. I saw you."

"You saw me _what_?" I pressed.

"I saw you fall, and for a moment I thought you were dead. You barely breathed. I carried you back here as fast as I could, I had to have Theodora's doctor look at you."

"Did you think it was poison?" I asked him. He shrugged, and leaned back in his chair, queuing me to continue with his hand. I hesitated, again. It remained a prominent part of my irrational mind that I could get declared a witch for this.

"Every now and then... I see things. People. It's the same as everything here, except I know if I could trust them. Like, if they were my friend or not. I could see... I don't know, their soul or something." Ezio looked at me then, kind of shocked. It wasn't a joke at all to him, and it was beyond comforting to know that.

"When did this start?"

"Not a week ago, I think." And at that, he pulled the chair closer to the bedside and leant forward, resting his elbows on his legs.

"That can't be possible."

"Why not?" I looked at him.

"Because I've been seeing the same thing my entire life. It's not a person's soul you see, it's more like an aura. It's like a person's intentions, and it shines out of them like a light. When you don't pay attention, it will look like they're shining brightly like a light, but when you focus in on them, you can't see it. You just… know. It's pure intuition."

"But how is it we both have it? I wasn't born here, we aren't rel—" I stopped myself. The looked in Ezio's eyes was incredulous.

"I don't think that's possible. The assassin order isn't completely reliant on a single bloodline; according to old pages I've been finding all over Italy, there are hundreds spread out across the planet. An ancient scribe has said that there are lands that won't be found for hundreds of years that already have assassins training in their families. There isn't a chance we are related. Besides, I'm more likely to die before I have children, Abigail. You know that." I softly hit his knee.

"You shouldn't say that."

"And why not?"

"Because if you died…" I trailed off. The air was thick, hard to inhale. I shuddered.

"I'm not going to, so don't worry." He said, lifting up my chin with one finger. I looked at him then, and it was like I could see him the way I remember him, the first day that I met him. He was tired, always so tired, and so focused, I think maybe sometimes he needed a break. He just couldn't afford it, especially not anytime soon. I wondered if maybe he had those moments where he wondered 'why him'. He had to. I suppose it didn't really matter if he did, but at least I could tell he's more human than he lets on. Maybe my original idea of us being partners in crime was becoming a possibility again; who knows.

"...So I'm not going crazy then? You're not going to throw me in a river or something?" And Ezio actually had the nerve to laugh!

"I'm serious!"

"No, Abigail," he said with a smile. "You're perfectly normal. Now, though, you have an advantage over your enemies. You're more capable now." I smiled.

"So what now?" I asked, moving out of his grip and onto the bed, legs crossed and eyes alert.

"You should sleep; I shouldn't even be here. Antonio's here somewhere, but I really don't know how he'd act with you now."

"He doesn't hate me, does he?"

"No, no, he doesn't hate anyone. He's the sort of man who believes in black and white. You're either helping him and his cause, or not, and since you voiced that you're not prepared to help him, he has simply disregarded you." I frowned.

"Oh." We sat in comfortable silence for a moment. I yawned, and for a moment Ezio just looked at me with something I've only really seen before once or twice. He looked at me, and it was like his heart was showing; I could see exactly what he thought of me. I didn't even falter or even halt what I was doing. It wasn't a perfect movie moment; I sort of just looked him in the eye as long as I could before going red and looking down. For the first time, I noticed what I was wearing; a modest nighty, off-white, and obviously not meant for someone to be seen in. I hadn't recalled ever owning one of these. I frowned and looked back up at him. He looked down at my hands fidgeting, and stood up. Immediately I followed suit, and he headed for the door.

"But what's going to happen now? After I go back to sleep?"

"Well, I'm currently waiting on the next report. But who knows, depending on what I have to do next, you may be able to tag along." He suggested, noticing my smile immediately.

"Are you completely serious?" I asked him in disbelief. He just smiled, and put his hands on either side of my face, planting a kiss to my forehead. He left then, and I continued to stand there, still confused. I crawled into bed that night with a frown, and fell asleep.

When I woke up, the sun was high in the sky, birds were singing, and for a few moments I had absolutely no recollection of the day before. I took it slowly, getting out of bed, combing my hair. It was still the same day, I could swear it. The sun was coming up when I saw Ezio, and now it was just later in the day. My stomach growled violently, so I made the bed and quietly left the room. I wasn't even shock that the place was a brothel, not at all. I followed the sounds of people, down a staircase to what was the front of house. There were women _everywhere_, all in their short skirts and low tops, lazing on couches, leaning on the walls. There were few men to entertain at the moment though, and so the girls were mostly chatting with each other. There _were_ men, but so few that they were easy to take care of, apparently. I struggled to remember her name for a moment, but it came to me. At speaking her name, Theodora ushered me out of the room gently. She was probably worried about influences, if anything.

"My child, you're awake. How are you feeling?" She asked, putting a hand to my forehead. I shrugged. "Fine."

"I'll send for one of Antonio's men at once."

"No, don't." I interjected. "Please. I'd like to walk there." She regarded me doubtfully.

"If you insist. But please, go straight there. Do not take any detours or unnecessarily long routes. Now, let's get you some clothes." I nodded, and plodded along behind her.

She didn't let me go without one of her girls escorting me, at the least. She'd actually had my dress minutely repaired, and dried, so it looked wearable. The value of it had already gone down exponentially, but really that was half my own fault, and mostly Ezio's. People walked past, and few even glanced at me. A little girl in a petite dress stared at me as I walked past, while she held her mother's hand, and it occurred to me how much had happened to me, yet so few people knew. I walked past all these faces, and it absolutely astounded me, that these people, they all fitted and belonged and then there was me, a complete misfit struggling to fit a mould and it just wasn't working. A triangle can't fit through a circle.

The little girl was watching even as I passed her. I looked over her shoulder, and she was there, eyes fixed on me like I was shining gold. It was a little unnerving; I don't think she was even blinking. I wouldn't allow myself to look back again until just before we turned a corner, and that time, she was gone, aswel as her mother. I tried to think little of it, but... I was extremely self-conscious.

It was a fair walk, but I knew where to find Ezio, and I was right, without a doubt. I received a curious look or two from some of the older thieves, the ones I'd previously formed relationships with. Rosa was all but disgusted. The prostitute by my side wished to pass a message onto Antonio, and I gave her leave to do so, ditching her in the interior courtyard. Ezio was in his room, looking over a small sheet of paper, looking old but in surprisingly good shape. He barely glanced in my direction, and continued to read the paper. I drew closer, and recognised the sheet of paper. Ezio had tonnes of these, I don't understand why this one was different. I didn't ask, but simply stood there expectantly, waiting.

"I assume you're ready to do some serious work?" He asked, not rudely, or assumingly. He was simply curious; it was nought more than a question.

"Essentially."

He placed the sheet of paper on the desk, and rolled it up, filing it into a thin canister, and tucked it away under the desk, where someone would not be likely to search for it. He grabbed about three blades from his bedside, and ushered me out of the room, down the stairs, and straight into the rink.

"Does this really count as 'serious work'?" I asked. He completely ignored me.

"So we're both completely neutral; no foul play, Abigail." I scowled.

"That was _once_!" He raised his eyebrows, and chucked me the sword. I didn't even catch it, just sort of scrambled to catch it but missed. It clattered to the ground loudly. A couple of people looked at me, and my face went red. I had trouble picking it up too, in the dress. I could swear Teodora had made it tighter.

"Ready?" He asked, and I nodded, and we fought. There was nothing malicious here, nothing not safe. He threw a few swings, and I parried. Admittedly I had lost my touch a fair bit. As he got faster, I fumbled more and more, and I could only just keep up. Finally, he hit me. Not hard, but on the side. I could feel the side of the blade through my dress, at my waist. He tapped me twice with the sword, and lowered it. I frowned, and relaxed.

"Speed."

"I know," I sighed. He turned around and paced for a second.

"Wait just a moment." I told him, and tried to walk a few paces. I looked down to the dress, back up and around the room, and down to the dress again. I closed my eyes for a moment. _Damn. _And then, with the sword, I made a clean, thin slice in the material on my side, normally where my arm would cover, and breathed in a sigh of relief at how much I could _move_. I then hooked the blade under the skirts on the opposite side, and pulled up, trying not to nick myself. I turned around, and tested movement. Yes, this was much better. Ezio looked me up and down with a quirked eyebrow.

"Okay." But he just continued to look at me. His eyes raked our surrounds, and he shrugged, taking up a defensive stance. I attacked this time.

Parry, parry. Slide. Close call. Feign left. High right. Low cut. Then he hit me again. I stepped back with my hands on my hips. I could feel my blood pumping.

"Again." I said, before he even had a chance to back off.

Parry, dodge, step back, left swipe, low cut, feign left, dodge, parry, parry, hit. I didn't even move.

"Again." I said, sounding a little worked up. So we did it again. And I lasted longer this time. I was slowly lasting longer and longer. Then he hit me, "again".

Solid three minutes, I got hit. "Again."

This time, just over three. Hit. "Again."

Fight. Hit. "Again."

Fight. Hit. "Again."

Fight. Hit. "Again."

But this time, he said no. I asked him why, through heavy breathing.

"Do you see what you're doing wrong? This is a learning exercise; you should be fixing your mistakes."

"What am I doing wrong?" I managed to say in between breaths. He took up a defensive stance, and sent a really slow swipe in my direction.

"When I aim for your body, you're too focused on trying to work it to your advantage. Just deflect it, and when you can dual wield, _then_ we can get onto using things to your advantage. For the moment, put your own wellbeing first." I nodded, and he threw me a few blows really slowly, and then began to quicken in pace.


	33. Chapter 33

**I know that this is extremely, extremely late. I've been interstate, and doing things for Christmas, and it's all been a really huge mess. I hope everyone has had wonderful holidays so far. Love you guys a lot! 3**

I kind of went into this mode where I was in full concentration. And pretty quickly, the room went slightly grey, and I could only make out shapes. It was like I could feel everyone in the room. I was concentrating where Ezio had just hit, and then where he was going to hit. I short of just _knew._ He got faster, and faster, and it was alarming because I wasn't making any mistakes. I decided I'd throw in an extra attack, on top, and that was my downfall. His blade just scraped my neck.

He just looked at me, bewildered.

"That was..."

"Fantastic?"

"...good." I raised an eyebrow. He stood up straight, smiling just a little.

"But you're not going to have a warm up every time someone attacks you." I nodded grimly. Okay. But...

I think I'd act differently, if it was my life at stake." I frowned while speaking. Ezio took this into account, seemingly thoughtful.

"…Did you want to test that?" I opened my mouth and closed it. What was he suggesting, just throwing me into a group of guards and seeing how it went? I hesitated to answer.

"…What exactly did you have in mind?" and he shrugged.

"Maybe you just shouldn't hold back." I suggested.

"But you wouldn't take me seriously."

"Try me."

"Fine." And I barely had time to take up a defensive stance; he rushed in, and I had to fall back immediately. He tried, swing after swing to breach my defences but I always seemed to _just_ get around it. I was just as, if not faster than him, but he had years of experience and force and one hell of an anger under all that muscle. I think that's what made him so deadly; he knew exactly what he wanted and what he had to do to get it and that determination sparked a force of nature inside him. It made me feel so sorry for all of his enemies.

My mind did a little panic for about ten seconds, and all I could do was slowly back off while he continued to target me in a rapid flurry. I was too afraid to try something, I could barely keep up. Bang, bang, bang, bang. He was probably putting chips in his blades. Crash, bang. I continued to step back as I parried, until I realized that he was herding me into a wall. No, I needed to do something offensive. I rattled off procedures in my head, going through how to do it. I _knew _how to do it, but things were always easier said than done. If people were saying things, I wasn't hearing them.

I tried it. I put the tiniest bit of fight in it. I held my ground, just for a few seconds, and then stepped back again. I stepped around him and tried to circle a little bit. He wouldn't have any of that, though. I got forced back to my original position, and became increasingly agitated. He wasn't fooling around, even the tiniest bit. I grew closer and closer to the wall, until my entire body was pressed right up against it and I'd dropped two swords and was on my last small blade. I was out of my league; what on earth could I do? By chance, Ezio fumbled, and dropped one of his blades, making things almost fair. He was still coming at me though, and it was my only chance.

I tried to slide my blade up, straight through his defences.

My sword went flying. I backed up immediately. He knew he was winning, and he knew I'd all but lost, but if he was going to take this seriously, he had to have me at knife's point. He closed in, and I backed off at the same pace, and for a moment I felt like a mouse caught in a net. Any moment now. He closed in, and I threw my hands up.

"No, not a chance. I know you're not going to hurt me. I know you wouldn't." I sighed, feeling a little bit defeated. I looked up at him out of my reverie and noticed that he hadn't stopped. He was inching closer, and closer, and there was not a single thing about his stature that said friendly. My eyes opened wide, and I stepped back, but he was less than an arm's length from me. I hit a wall and he held his blade dangerously close to my neck. I could feel the silver licking my skin, and I was genuinely afraid. I refrained from swallowing, and all I could do was watch his eyes, which only frightened me more. Emotionless, just void of everything. Blank. A small noise formed in the back of my throat, and his hand faltered. He backed off.

"Did you believe me then?" he asked wearily.

"…yes." I squeaked out. My eyes were dinner plates. He looked over at me.

"Come here." And I walked straight into his arms. He stroked my hair, rubbed circles into my shoulders, until I calmed down.

"Okay?" he whispered.

"Okay." I stood back and smiled at him, and looked around for my swords. We'd travelled a little bit out of the rink, and down toward the main doors, but I think I'd done a pretty good job of looking after my own hide. He'd had me in a vulnerable position in the end, but even then, I was still fighting. At that point, one of the younger thieves entered the building through the extremely large double doors. As it was severely quiet, people turned to stare. It occurred to me how young he looked. He was a preteen, obviously having lived a not-so-comfortable life so far. Though, this was poverty, in all its various forms, summed up in a child. I frowned.

He passed through the room, heading for Antonio just as Antonio noticed and aimed for him. A small sheet of paper, no bigger than two of my fingers put together, transferred hands, and briefly read. Antonio thanked and dismissed the boy, and called out to Ezio, who was already intently paying attention. Yep, this meant we had something to do. Antonio passed the note to Ezio, and he read it. He nodded twice. I couldn't quite make out many words being spoken, but it wasn't _bad_ news, as far as I could tell. It was simply another mission, another quest. When he turned to me, I raised my eyebrows expectantly and he smiled lightly. I smiled back and grabbed my last blade.

It wasn't too bad weather-wise outside. I steered clear of all canals though, just to make sure. I had everything I needed with me: my blades, one of my more easily-manoeuvrable dresses, and a few coins. Still, I could tell we weren't in a rush, and I hadn't yet realized why until we stopped outside a shop. Well, a shopping complex. This place was a square dedicated to the main areas of shopping, food and clothing and even a doctor in front of a cart. More like a chemist, really. Or a witchdoctor, considering the usefulness. And the mask.

He approached a blacksmith at first, and frankly, the guy was a little bit rude when Ezio asked for my weapons from me to let the guy touch-up. I made a face at him as he told Ezio he'd be done "within the hour". Ass. Hat. Next, there was the tailor, which I wasn't entirely happy with either. The tailor was a lovely old woman, yes, but she held pretty traditional ideas of how I ought to dress, and voiced her complaints when Ezio ordered her to change things. Essentially, I could keep the dress as it was, however I was given a hood. I wasn't entirely experienced enough to try a less straightforward kind of assassination that would allow me to show my face. Sacrifices needed to be made for my lack of experience, and I understood. Arrangements were made for my other dresses to be fixed in the same way.

It was about an hour before sundown, when the sun began to bathe everything in yellow, when we returned to the Della Seta. We didn't stay long, as soon as the sun went down, we were off, and I'd finally been clued in on what was going on. Someone that we could find very valuable, possibly even detrimental, to the_ murder_ of Marco and Dante.

Okay, I hated to say 'assassinate' because it insinuated a lot. It meant that 1) he had a good reason to die, like killing him was extremely justified. 2) It implied that killing was all I was good for. That it was the summit of my career prospects and I had no plans beyond the business of death. 3) It gave this idea that there was some grand reason to all of this, where I killed people because I'd seen the darkest part of them; I'd seen their true nature and purpose in life, and decided that it was in the best nature of humanity to halt their existence. Yes, many times I feel my decision had been swayed by my emotions, and there have been a few times where I'd later regretted my decisions, much like in San Gimignano. Regardless of all of this, it was still the title I was given.

I just hoped that the money had helped, though the family was probably out on the street now. I shuddered and shook the memories and forced myself to think of other things. That haunted me. Apparently this man we were trying to get on our side had many mercenaries under his command, so I didn't dwell too much on details. Only, we had to free him from prison tonight, before he was executed. Fantastic.

We had to go to the eastern-most district, where the poor lived. Beggars were on every street corner, folk of all ages milling about their days. One had to keep a good eye on their money purse, as children and budding thieves would find a way to sneak their hands in. For some reason though, no one approached Ezio. The crowd sort of parted for him. I'd be intimidated by him—hell, I _was_ intimidated by him. I followed closely behind to make sure nobody would bother me, and it worked. The streets were borderline crowded; most of the poor were out on the streets, as few of them had homes. Those that did have homes, were closing up shop for the night. Maybe crime was a serious problem in the area. It wouldn't surprise me; people did what they had to for survival.

We finished sight-seeing, and decided to take a back street, when Ezio spotted something on the rooftop. At first I had no idea what he was searching for, until I followed him onto the roof. He was talking to a very grisly looking man, who could've used a shave. He had an arrow shaft protruding from his gut. Immediately I looked around, but there were no signs of archers here now. His eyes trained first on Ezio, and then on me, for only a fraction of a second.

"You must be one of Bartolomeo's men. What happened? Where is he?" Ezio asked him. I held my breath. I didn't think he'd make it through the next sentence.

"Silvio's thugs… attacked… took him… deeper into the district… north of here…" and then, he seemed to relax. He cough once, before his limbs went limp, and his eyes glazed over. I bit my lip. I don't think it ever got not-disturbing. Ezio crouched in front of him, and closed his eyes, mumbling the phrase "Requiescat en Pace". I crossed my arms over my chest.

"He's further this way" Ezio told me, gesturing in the direction the wounded man had mentioned. He reached the edge of the roof, and looked back to me, expecting me to follow.

"Are we just going to leave him here?" I asked him, glancing back to the corpse.

"We haven't the time to move him, Abigail. Time is not on our side."

"But…" I trailed off. Could we really just do that? Ezio stood up from crouching on the edge of the roof, and shifted himself to be directly infront of me.

"I'm sorry, we can't. We really have to move." And so I bit my lip and we left. I think just to be sure, we stayed on the rooftops, until we got close. And boy, you could hear the guy from a mile away. Swearing to his heart's content. He spoke insults that I've never even heard of before. I might've admired the guy a small amount for that. He had quite a pair of lungs on him, too. No wonder he'd gotten himself arrested in the first place. We drew closer and closer, until I could _just_ see the cluster of guards watching over his cell. They reminded me of the colour red. `

I backed up a few paces to give myself a small runner-up before jumping to the next building, but Ezio stopped me.

"I need you to meet me somewhere. Here is too open." A small flicker of anger built up inside me, but I quelled it.

"Okay. Where?" And I watched Ezio free the burly man of his cage, from a distance, of course. He'd given me the direction, and a general location and such. I'd know it when I'd see it. Just before I began to run again, I heard Bartolomeo say something that made me chuckle quietly to myself.

"About goddamned time! I don't know if I should kiss you or slap you. Maybe both, just to be safe!"

Then the guards rocked up, and I knew it was time to get going.


	34. Chapter 34

**Hehe, I really loved writing this chapter, so enjoy. :) xoxo**

It was _a lot_ of running. It was lucky I was up to that, because I think right near the end, when I could just make out the place, I thought I was going to collapse. My PE teacher would have loved to see this, once upon a time. That was basically nought but a day dream now. I barely wasted two seconds on the idea, even though it pained me slightly. I was about to run straight into the gates, when a sudden shock caused me to misstep. As I was, relying on my momentum and the wooden beams sticking out of the sides of buildings, it hurt when I fell.

I hit the ground extremely loudly, and luckily enough, there was no one around to see. What had surprised me was that there were still two guards hanging around in the gateway of Bartolomeo's place. They were acting pretty sinister, too. Tearing the place apart. They looked up and around for a moment when I hit the ground, obviously having heard me. I picked myself up and slinked up against the nearest form of cover I could find. It was a small set of wooden scaffolding-like objects that resembled stairs a little. They were convenient when there wasn't a ladder nearby. Speaking of which, I looked around.

I didn't have much to work with. I shrinked up against my cover until I knew for sure they'd gone back to their havoc-wreaking. I assessed the damage from the fall, and I wasn't badly knocked up at all. Just a graze on my palm, and my elbow. Awesome.

I looked around, not a guard in sight save for the two who'd gone back into Bartolomeo's place. I could hear them knocking things over, maybe searching for something, I'm not sure. But I used my cover to get back onto the roof, before anyone else showed up. There weren't any archers in the immediate area either... This was extremely unusual. I manoeuvred my way over to the roof above them, and waited in the shadows. It got darker, and quieter, and for a moment I was positive they were never going to rock up. Then, funnily enough, they did. At first it was just Ezio, then Bartolomeo rounded the corner too. Both of them brandishing weapons. I whistled softly, and Ezio caught sight of me. Simultaneously, the guards emerged from the gates.

"If you value your lives, you will stand down." Bartolomeo stepped forward with—was he holding a broomstick?

"Never! What good is a man's life if not lived free, eh? I'll not go back into a cage!"

"Then you'll go into the ground! Kill them." And the guards drew their swords. I shrunk back against the roof, into the darkness, hidden. Ezio and Bartolomeo had beaten them down in a matter of seconds, and so I grabbed the edge of the roof, and swung down. I landed softly on the balls of my feet. Bartolomeo tensed up, ready to attack me too, but Ezio put a hand on his weapon.

"She's with me." He explained, and Bartolomeo nodded. I stepped out of the gateway, and he ran past me, into the courtyard. I fell in step with Ezio, and we followed behind. Ezio shut the gate after us. Well, even if we were all screwed up emotionally, we were still able to work together with minimal problems. I knew to never question anything he asked of me, and he never asked an outrageous amount of me. Things still weren't resolved. I could feel it.

"Look at what they've done with the place! Oh no... Bianca!" Bartolomeo yelled as he opened the door to the building, with us trailing in his wake. I shot a side glance at Ezio, but he looked just as confused as I felt.

Inside, the furniture was upturned, books and scrolls in piles on the floor. I had to dodge something falling off the shelf next to the door. Bartolomeo was searching feverishly for his "Bianca".

"Is everything alright?" Ezio asked.

"What do you think? Look at this place! And poor Bianca... If something's happened to her..." I stood in the doorway, watching him search. Did he have a pet or something? Just as I stood up straight from leaning in the doorway, he yelled triumphantly. Reaching behind the table, he pulled out... A sword. Was this guy really as detrimental as everyone thought he was? I sincerely hoped not.

"Oh, my darling. Thank God you're alright. Ezio, meet Bianca. Bianca, Ezio." Said he, raising the point of the blade to Ezio's face. He knocked it gently out of the way with his hand.

"Charmed." Bartolomeo studied the sword for a few more moments, and then held it firmly in his hands. He looked at me.

"And... you are?" Both Ezio and I replied simultaneously.

"Abigail." I shot Ezio a look.

"Hmm, not Italian... Are you British?" I looked at Ezio, but he seemed pretty content to let me answer.

"It's complicated." Bartolomeo nodded.

"You are both Assassins then?" And again, Ezio and I answered at the same time. I said yes, while he said no. I shot him a glare. Bartolomeo's eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. Okay, yes, I was right. Maybe things weren't as easy-going between Ezio and I as one might have thought.

"So, I know your names, but not why you're here." He addressed both Ezio and I.

"I have business with Silvio Barbarigo. I was told you could help." Ezio answered. Bartolomeo responded with vigour; he obviously wasn't a huge fan of the man.

"Ah. It would be my honour." He grinned. I took a chance to join in.

"But it's going to require more than just the three—" Ezio corrected me quickly, considering the look on Bartolomeo's face, glancing between ' Bianca' and I.

"_Four_ of us to weaken his forces. How do you suggest we proceed?" Immediate business mode with him, I swear.

"I'll go and ready my men. While I do this, I'd like you to rescue those who were captured during Silvio's assault. I cannot, in good conscience, leave them behind."

"Understood. I will attend to it at once."

"Good luck out there Ezio. And to you, Signorina." He said, gesturing to me. I followed Ezio out the door. He picked up a steady pace, back in the direction that he came, with me following him closely. He glanced at me while running once. Then he did it again. When he decided to for the third time, I had to ask.

"What?"

"You're quiet." He regarded me cautiously.

"I'm fine." I shrugged, and tried to diffuse the conversation swiftly. Ezio gave me a look.

"So where are we going?"

"Back into the heart of the district. I'd imagine Bartolomeo's men are being held in small groups—they're more manageable that way and less likely to overwhelm their guards." I nodded. So we were just freeing them. Fair enough. We kept up a light jog until we hit probably the busiest part of the district. Ezio sent me off in one direction, after making me swear I'd be careful, and then ran in the opposite. I really hoped he knew where he was going, because I sure as hell didn't. He'd told me to use my keen "intuition".

I didn't even know what I was looking for until I ran full-pelt into two men. Dressed in full armor. With swords. Immediately I backed up and kept my head down, but they picked up on it. I apologized profusely. Gold shone from behind them.

"How dare you! I'll teach you some respect, peasant." The man all-but yelled, towering above me. He could probably tell I was female, but I simply backed off slowly. If I wanted to take the chance that he'd simply hit me head-side and continue on with his merry day, I would've stayed still, but in this case, I just ran. I think he gave up once I turned a couple corners, and I made sure he wouldn't follow by hitting the rooftops. There was a single archer nearby, who was easy to avoid.

I found Bartolomeo's men quickly—they hadn't exactly gone to lengths to be hidden. And they weren't trying to be quiet. An entire courtyard had been blocked off to segregate them from the public. Only those who lived within the area were really allowed to pass through the guarded pathways in and out. It was reminiscent of when I'd helped liberate some thieves from a similar situation on the other side of the district. Fortunately, the buildings that created the barriers of the courtyard all linked to form an easy path around. I saw also, there was an easy path _with a ladder_ that landed directly on top of their cell. Okay, now they were just asking to be freed. It was pretty pathetic, if I do say so myself. They weren't yelling abuse like Bartolomeo though; just the occasional remark.

I slinked around, feeling really good about myself because of how well I was doing, and then descended down the wall side, softly landing on the top of the cage. None of the mercenaries had noticed me, so I quietly whispered to them. _Psst. _One of them looked around, but not up. Seriously, didn't I just land on the cage? Did that not make a noise at all? I tried again, and he looked up. At first he was pretty damn surprised, and then he nudged his friend next to him. God, these guys reminded me of Arturo, and melancholy rose up in my stomach. The word got around pretty quickly, and they watched me as I reached over the edge, to unlock the cage. I couldn't reach. I stretched as far as possible, still nothing. Just an inch short. I glanced up, but the guards mostly seemed to be not-moving at all. I chanced it, and let myself down onto the ground.

I unhitched the lock, and the six of them barrelled out of the cage. They immediately ran to the opposite side of the square, extremely loudly, in order to pick up their weapons. Of course, the guards heard them and rushed to intervene. I barely moved, and as such, no one noticed me. It was right to have locked them up in small groups, because hell, they took out everyone in a matter of seconds. When the last guy had fallen, they stopped for a minute and looked around for me. I stepped forward, with all my five foot height, and filled them in.

"I've got to get you back to Bartolomeo." I told them, as they gathered around, slightly too close for comfort. Everyone seemed pretty okay with that, so I took point and ran with six very large, and extremely not-subtle burly men behind me. I didn't have to do _any _fighting, at all. Every time a guard picked a fight, let's just say that they picked some pretty bad fights. We arrived at the designated meeting spot and I left them with another group. Bartolomeo was there, too, but I didn't waste time checking in. I took off in the direction I'd just come, but stopped when I caught sight of Ezio running with a third group behind him.

"Hey, how'd you do that so quickly?" I asked him as he got closer. He stopped right in front of me.

"I sent you to get the furthest group." And I slapped his arm; I knew what he was up to. He barely noticed. There were about twenty people here, either getting patched up or standing around and talking. They began to dissipate, and Ezio decided that we ought to leave aswell. After giving Bartolomeo a short timeline on when he'll be needed in the next few days, we left for the Della Seta. Conversation was light.

In fact, I didn't say a word to Ezio. I hadn't exactly forgiven him. I didn't know what was going through his head, I didn't know how genuine he was when he told me how he felt. I didn't know, and it was terrifying. He hadn't pushed me to say anything, and I barely uttered a 'good night' before going into my room and closing the door behind me. I did sleep that night, uneasily, but sleep I did.

Ezio knocked on my door and told me that I should be getting up. He was going to leave to go out somewhere and I politely informed him I didn't want to come. He closed the door behind him, and I lay in bed, my fingers tracing over my scars. Hm. I think it was more than a year ago, bordering on two, since I was freed of my prison. And then it was only a few weeks ago, maybe a couple months, when I'd found about Cristina, and from I think then on, everything seemed to turn sideways slightly. I'd spent so much of my time in Monteriggioni obsessing over being fit and being strong and being unstoppable… and then I was so utterly happy to simply give it up out of spite. Ezio hurt me, I hurt him right back. Only, did it really hurt him?

I thought, and really, my thoughts seemed to quench my hunger, for a time. The greatest question was, did I really want this? Or better yet, what _did_ I really want? Did I want to spend my life risking everything, never completely sure that one day I'd return home, and have Ezio aswell? Or did I want to get out now and find a husband and a family; maybe it'd be easy to find a husband. Maybe. But the thought of finding another man, someone probably with some kind of problem, with drinking or gambling or with keeping a job, didn't appeal to me at all. I didn't want anyone else.

So really… Ezio really was all that I wanted. Was he? Yes. There was no denying this; I loved him. Absolutely. And if I really want him, I suppose my life choices are now chosen. I'd be an Assassin, I'd fight and die for this one day. And for the first time in a long time… I wasn't terrified.


	35. Chapter 35

**Hey so it's a day late but I'm just gonna let you know I won't be uploading next week. I've got some work to do and some homework to finish and school starts in two weeks, and yes. So catch you in two weeks time. xoxooxo**

I dressed myself and decided to practise in the rink. Really, there was so little I could spend my time doing, and so I decided on something I could improve greatly on. I picked on Ugo until he gave in and jumped in the rink with me. I was completely sure but, I think something inside me changed. I felt happier. Lighter. Like something had been lifted completely off my shoulders.

And Ugo was wonderfully good fun to spend time with. He was much too easy to fight, but we were just playing socially. The thing about thieves was that they relied more on their stamina, agility, and speed to survive. And then there were the courtesans, who were able to hide in plain sight, and get by where others couldn't, and didn't fight at all. And then the mercenaries, who couldn't run for their lives, but were strong and highly able fighters. They were all irreplaceable elements to an order, a system. They weren't considered assassins, but they aided us—them. I didn't know if I counted as an assassin. I don't know what Ezio would say. All he'd want to do is keep me safe, which really angered me, sometimes. I wasn't a child, not anymore.

I think in the time it took me to socialize with the thieves again, the more Rosa warmed up to me. I don't think it was that she didn't like me as a person, I think it was because of the relationship I had with Ezio. I'd be so incredibly jealous if I were in her position, too. He was _hot._ It was much like that day a long time ago. I had literally nothing to do, so I spent all day drinking with Ugo and his friends. Maybe the trick was to limit how many drinks I had. It was a really awesome memory, to be honest. Everyone thought I was hilarious, and everyone enjoyed themselves.

Today was like that. I'd never explored the Della Seta at all, so when I discovered there was a giant dining room that could've fit _every single thief_, we threw some food onto the table and sat around for _hours. _I couldn't even hear the large doors open from here, we were so loud. I couldn't remember everyone's names, to be honest. I felt a little bad. There was Ugo, Rosa, a Sebastian in there somewhere, and an Arnaud, which I remembered because it was a French name.

When Ezio entered the room, it was toward the end of the day. People glanced at him and invited him in to join us, and I just looked at him. He looked at me, right in my eyes, and all I could think to do was smile. Gently though. And sincere. I think I caught a slight smile back. Both of us tuned back in to what everyone else was saying almost immediately though. Come to think of it, it was just like the night when Ezio and I last arrived in Monteriggioni, and we all stayed up around the camp fire for hours. The only exception was, I wasn't drunk this time. I think I learnt after the second time around that I shouldn't drink too heavily. And in the fact that I hadn't, allowed for happiness.

When everyone began to dissipate, I hung around with Ugo, until eventually he too needed to go to bed. It wasn't extremely late, maybe 10pm or so, and really, people's wake-up times and bedtimes revolved around the sun; it was infinitely more natural, I suppose. I wasn't extremely tired, so I sat in the heart of the Della Seta. Even Antonio was asleep, or at least out somewhere. There was a mix of candle and lantern light, but it all seemed to be coming from above. There were always people watching from the rooves, too. If you wanted to maintain control over something, you had to guard it, and Antonio wasn't taking any chances. Though… it was silent. I chose a step and sat, thinking, listening, just milling through the darkness.

Ezio, of course, was never far away. I could hear him, just, as he plodded down the stairs toward me. I didn't look for him, and eventually he sat down beside me. Neither of us said a thing, simply drinking in the darkness. He rested his elbows on his knees and had his hands crested together inbetween. The stars above were heavenly. He caught me looking up, and broke the peace.

"Would you like to see them from the roof?" and I looked over at him, at first not smiling. Then I let up, only slightly.

"Okay." And we climbed up. I wasn't a fantastic climber, but he helped, and let me go first, and eventually we made it. It wasn't a difficult climb, it was just late. The few sent to guard the rooves looked at us quizzically. I bet they were hoping their shift was over. We picked a spot where the roof was fairly level, and lay down. Even subconsciously, I looked for the Southern Cross, even though I hadn't seen it in years. I waited for him to say something first.

It was hard to explain how I felt toward Ezio. I wanted an apology, but I also wanted to understand. And I mean, one thing you never forget is your first love, and so I didn't want to make him get over Cristina, yet I still wanted him for myself. Like I said, hard to explain.

"How are you?" he asked me. For a moment, I wasn't sure if he'd spoken, it was so quiet.

"I think I'm doing really well… How about yourself?" I responded. I was careful with my words. I was so conscious about everything to do with this situation right now.

"Well. I haven't much to do but wait for the ship." Ah, he was talking about the ship that Silvio and Dante planned to take over to Cyprus for something important. I didn't have a lot of details, but the plan was to get them at their most vulnerable, which just happened to be _just_ before they get on the boat. Really, it couldn't have been as difficult as I made it out to be in my head. Besides, we had the mercenaries on our side. That _had _to count for something.

I didn't reply to him. The words hung in the air, swept away with the wind, and the water, and I could just feel myself drifting off. It was so relaxing to be here. My breathing slowed, and I could feel myself slipping. This moment was quiet, calm, heavenly. I felt Ezio shift beside me, and it stirred me slightly. I frowned slightly, and opened my left eye to a most peculiar sight. Ezio stared at me curiously, looking at me with an almost child-like innocence, and I could just tell he was craving to ask a question. It looked like something I'd do, to be honest.

"Just a—" I tried to give him permission.

"What happened?" he spat out. I gave him a side-long glance, studying him for a moment before I thought to answer.

"I thought assassins were supposed to be able to control themselves, and express extreme patience?" I questioned. I opened my eye again, and I could see him waiting for a real answer. He was holding back from saying anything; this was so utterly surprising of him. I'd never seen him this way. I decided to play dumb, because let's face it, I was never going to see this side of him first. He'd lost all composure, and I could see everything he was thinking and feeling written across his face like an open book.

"What happened with what?" and he frowned.

"You know what I'm talking about." He groaned. I shook my head.

"I'm not sure I do. Would you care to explain?" I asked nonchalantly. This had to be driving him positively _mad_. I let out a wide grin, and he nudged me with his shoulder, rolling back onto his back. I heard him huff out a 'fine' and then he went silent. Occasionally one of the guys on duty would walk past us, and it was a small part awkward because of the way I was lying, and how I could look them straight in the eye as they walked past. A thought came to mind

"Is this like, the calm before the storm?" I asked quietly. I half expected Ezio to be asleep next to me, but he answered eventually.

"To be honest, Abigail, I think we're just in the eye." And on that note, I left.

It was easier to get down than to get up. They'd actually moved some things around so it was easy to get up, considering people were doing it a lot. On the ground, I did a quick assessment of the entire room. It was quite a beautiful place, to be honest. The previous occupants had gone to lengths to take care of it, unlike the current owners. I could bet that nobody had washed these floors in months, and the few ornaments on display hadn't been dusted since the change of hands.

Ezio didn't take long to climb down, and when he had both feet on the ground, I had my head off in the clouds. It took me completely by surprise when he kissed me.

At first, I was so completely happy with this. It was a sweet kiss, the kind reserved for fairy tales and too-perfect chick flicks. He had one hand cupped around my face, and the other hand in mine. I could feel his fingers slide inbetween mine, in their place, where I felt they belonged. Then, when the first moment was over, I got a grasp of what was happening. What he was doing.

I pulled back, and stared at him. I didn't say anything, I just looked at him. Did I want him? Yes, yes I did. I wanted him. I tried to kiss him again, but I stopped, frowning.

"My lips are up here." He whispered, putting two fingers under my chin and pulling me closer. I indulged in one more, and then he pulled back to let me breathe. Something bothered me about this though. I think he might have noticed, but he wasn't saying anything. I opened my mouth to say something, but just before I could get a sound out, the front doors crashed open, a small thief no taller than me running in. He reached Antonio's study and peered in the window, and turned toward us and jumped. Apparently he hadn't seen us here. Ezio had removed his hands from mine and for the most part, it probably looked like we were simply talking. Ezio turned to face him.

"Ser Ezio, I have news. The Templars are moving sooner than we anticipated." Ezio took a step toward him, but there was no paper for Ezio to read this time. This was extremely fresh, hot off the press.

"They moved the departure to this morning. Before sunrise."

"Go to Bartolomeo, and inform him of the situation. " He ordered the thief, who happily obliged. I stepped forward to be beside Ezio, and lightly touched his arm. At the same time, he stepped away, and moved for the stairs. I had the natural assumption that he had to prepare somehow. He hadn't exactly dressed down for the night. He turned to look at me three stairs up, quickly jumping back down to pull me by the hand up the stairs with him.

"What are we doing?" I asked quietly.

"You need your hood." I simply accepted that. He pushed the door open to my room, and pulled things out of the robe, throwing them onto the bed in a rush. I think he assumed I'd get changed immediately. By the time I'd reached the bed, I could hear Ezio rummaging through things in the room next to mine. I flicked the hood over my head, and man, I'd never felt so badass. Ezio burst in my room and I turned to face him. He simply nodded, and I nodded in response.

Lights were on in the house of Bartolomeo. His men gathered anxiously, waiting for a fight. Like before, I received a few odd looks. Bartolomeo was as energetic as ever, stir crazy but ready to go. Ezio instructed Bartolomeo and his men to hit certain parts of the city around the l'Arsenale district at his signal. I was instructed to stay by Bartolomeo's side until Ezio showed up, and then, I had a special task. I left my hair down, falling in its lengths over my shoulders. Extremely recognisable. Perfect.

Ezio left, and the small crowd parted ways for him. Man, he looked cool. I didn't look nearly as intimidating as him, as I hadn't the height, nor the broad chest, nor the eagle-like gaze that made you want to cry. Also, I'm pretty sure than even with my hood up, you could tell I was a girl, which didn't exactly send out a beacon screaming "respectful, worthy adversary!". That just was not how things worked here. I hadn't a chance.

I acted like a shadow of Bartolomeo, for fear of getting in the way. We began with his entire force, running through to where we needed to be, groups of five or so breaking off as we ran. Long before we arrived, Bartolomeo struck up a conversation, which I was surprised about, to be honest.

"Ezio tells me you're training to be an assassin. Nasty line of work for a woman of your… stature." He said cautiously

"I haven't a choice in the matter." I dismissed, unsure where the conversation was headed.

"Ah, so it's a family trade?" Trade? Is that what it was called?

"I haven't any family." Again, he was completely shut down. Though, he turned to look at me, with an almost disbelieving look on his face. Lucky for me, he didn't ask. He got another idea, though.

"But you and Ezio don't quarrel enough to be related." I could see where he was heading with this. I didn't really know what to do, so naturally, I panicked.

"I was taken in by his family not long ago. It's really quite complicated. I have a British first name, a Spanish last, I speak French, and I live in Italy."

"Really? And so what is your name?"

"Abigail Reina du Muerta." He smiled a little, obviously enthused. I couldn't imagine why. As the conversation had occurred while we were jogging, constantly we were looking back to where we were moving. We finally reached a large courtyard-like area, like a wide passageway, and stopped. Bartolomeo looked around the corner maybe twice, and then to the sky. He glanced there again, and I decided to step away from the wall and look into the sky. Bartolomeo all but shoved me back against the wall, with a single arm.

"Wait a moment, Abigail." He commanded, quietly. Two of the men giggled

"What are you looking at—" Fireworks, fireworks everywhere. Beautiful, bright colours lighting up the sky. Bartolomeo brandished Bianca enthusiastically in his grasp, and chuckled heartily beside me.

"Now, men!" And we burst around the corner.


	36. Chapter 36

** A/N: So hey guys. It's been aw… like four or five months? I'm really, really sorry about not keeping this up. Since school started, I've discovered a psychological problem with me continuing this story, so if I continue it, my uploads may be slightly erratic and unpredictable, but I'm going to try my hardest to keep it going. I've only been able to write this because my mid-year exams are scheduled in such a way that I've been given a five day weekend, which I intend to use for both revision and for this. I hope you enjoy this long-awaited chapter. I still love you guys! Thank you for remaining faithful. 3 xx Lizzie.**

Dante was surprised at first to see us there. He and his men acted as fast as possible, but the

element of surprise gave us time. We were upon them just as he had drawn his sword. Of course, I was at the tail end of the attack, and in fact there were so many of us outnumbering them that I didn't even get to cross swords with them. Bartolomeo seemed to be holding up just fine, and pretty much all of the men, too. I raised my blades in front of me, but there wasn't a single person to strike. I heard a loud splash off in the distance, and turned to the sound. Something approximately Ezio-shaped and sized, clambered out of the canal, soaked to the bone.

I heard a loud shout very close by, and only turned back in time to deflect a sword trying to cut straight down on me. I threw the guard back, and he stumbled for a moment before regaining his feet. He came back at me with a burning resentment, but Ezio jumped in front of me, shoving me backwards towards the corner whence we'd came. I took two steps back and just let him deal with the guy. He fell to the ground, just as Dante backed out of the fight, and ran, two guards moving in his wake to stop assailants. Swords raised, Ezio pointed to a ladder, whistled once, and ran forward, directly into the guards. I rushed for the ladder without drawing attention; the fight was practically over here. On the roof, it was deserted. Well, more than usual. There wasn't a guard for miles. I ran, trying to keep up with Ezio and his attempts to catch up to Dante, with Bartolomeo and his men in their wake.

There were mercenaries placed throughout the district, all seeming to slowly converge at the gate of L'Arsenale. Dante stood there, Ezio running after him, and then, the real battle begun.

I climbed to the highest point, and waited. The battle was even, neither side gaining vantage. Everyone just seemed to be able to handle themselves, it was really weird. The guards, however, slowly fell, one by one. Ezio was granted the chance to take on Dante.

"Don't think that I don't know why you're here, Ezio Auditore da Firenze." And Ezio faltered for merely a moment. He took a couple steps back to avoid taking a hit, before picking up intensity again, saying nothing. Dante continued.

"Do you miss him, Ezio? Your fool of a father? My greatest regret is I could not have been the one to pull the lever. To watch him kick and gasp and _hang._" By this point, Ezio was furious. It was like he didn't stop to breathe, he just kept on swiping Dante, over and over again. I was becoming more on edge from my position on the roof, and worked out how exactly to get down. But I stayed on the roof for a few moments longer.

"You'll follow him into the ground!—" I didn't even listen to the rest of his little speech, I jumped off the roof and ran up to join the fight. I aimed two knives at Dante but neither hit him in a crucial place. He looked over to see me, and I think something clicked inside his head. He recognised me, absolutely. I smiled. He faltered and pulled back from Ezio, aware that I was a new dynamic added to the situation. Bartolomeo called to us from across the courtyard.

"Ezio, go now! That brute will no doubt lead you straight to his master! My men and I will remain here and keep the guards from giving chase." And that was our ticket. Dante retreated into Arsenale, and Ezio had but a moment to stop and breathe.

"Abigail, you should be on the roof."

"I know." He looked at me, and I looked at him. He smiled for a moment, and began to give chase on Dante, who'd met up with Silvio, and had started to run.

"Take to the rooves!" He yelled from in front of me, and I obliged. I picked the closest rooftop, and scaled it. You could see on the right, the ship they must've been taking. Guards were bustling madly around the place, crates placed on the boat and then running away with their swords drawn. Ezio had to take the long way, but I just followed the roof line, taking out a guard or two whenever a group approached Ezio. He was avoiding them pretty well but they were beginning to gain on him from behind. I didn't run into anyone on the roof, however I lost my footing twice.

Following around the water's edge, I arrived much before Ezio or Silvio had. The guards had all but abandoned the ship now, save for two or three making last-minute adjustments to the ropes. I could hear Ezio going at someone around the corner, and rushed to the ledge, readying my knives as I went. I took two down, quickly, but struggled to keep up with how quickly Ezio was moving. This was crazy. He was so concentrated.

He broke through the crowd and managed to make up almost a hundred yards in a matter of seconds, and simultaneously struck the pair. They both fell, just as they passed the barriers, onto the ship. I moved from my place on the roof, seemingly unnoticed by everyone on the ground, and jumped straight from the roof to the bow of the ship. Ezio was talking to them both as they slowly died. I caught the tail end of the conversation as I approached.

"Sail where?" He asked. I jumped down to the main deck and went down into the depths of the ship—or well, as far as I could get that kept me within earshot. There was a large desk of documents I began rummaging through, quietly, cautiously.

"I'll never tell." Silvio replied. Ezio went to say something, but Dante cut him off.

"Cyprus… is their destination. They want… They… want…" and he trailed off, dead. A single second felt like ten. I held my breath, grabbing something, anything, and heading for the door. Ezio mumbled a short prayer for them under his breath, before turning away to face the onset of guards. I stood in the doorway.

"Abigail?" He glanced at me.

"Hm?"

"You probably want to start running." However I think we'd both accepted that I was just going to ignore almost everything he said. He didn't see me, but I tucked the item I'd plucked from the table—a small book—into the folds of my robes. I pressed my palms onto the hilts of my blades.

"I know." But I stayed where I was, just as ready to kill the guards that hadn't yet fled. It was a waste of life, to be honest. The fact that their actions could only be halted by their deaths was beyond a tragedy. I spoke little prayers as the both of us cut them down like flowers. It was essentially a system, a process. Just something that was done. And I guess then, I understood death.

I'd come from a world where death was seldom celebrated. We'd discovered and invented technology to extend the length of our lives. In fifteen years' time, Ezio should have been having grandchildren, which he obviously was not going to do. In thirty years, he could quite possibly be dead. For the first time I believed that life was indeed, incredibly short. We stood around for a moment after the last man fell. I hoped none of these men had wives; the thought twisted my insides uncomfortably.

I don't know if it all got too a bit too much for Ezio, or if he was worried about me, but he urged me to leave with him, and we did, making our way back to the gates. Bartolomeo was standing there, waiting for us. He looked ecstatic.

"Well done, Ezio! Silvio is defeated and the military district is returned to us! Perhaps now, Venezia might enjoy a bit of peace and tranquillity. We should celebrate this victory!"

"I am glad for you and your men, Bartolomeo. But I cannot join, as I fear my work has just taken another strange turn…" Ezio replied. I wasn't surprised.

"What do you mean?" Bartolomeo asked.

"Silvio wasn't looking to replace Marco as Doge. He was about to leave Venezia, in fact. This whole thing was just a distraction."

"Why?"

"That, is what I need to find out." I stood by his side as he said this, and then as we departed the district, we spoke little more. I trailed behind him, staring at his feet absent-mindedly. Ezio stopped walking abruptly, sending me straight into his back, catching me off guard. I nearly fell over, if he hadn't caught my wrist and held me steady. I looked up to see what the problem was. He looked to the rooves, with his hand still wrapped around my wrist. I tugged slightly on my wrist and he let it go, still looking up.

"Follow me, I'd like to show you something." He said, and I obliged, scaling the wall side clumsily in the dark. It looked like he was leading me away from the centre of the city, away from the bright lights and to the edges of the water. People milled about, maintaining a faint hum that grew softer, quieter, and the water more loud.

It wasn't a special place he was taking me to, but just a high one. It was dark, secluded, and there was no threat of someone bothering us. He let me climb first, perhaps afraid that I might fall. I was certainly tired, but more noticeably, it was dark. The tower wasn't particularly tall in the grand scheme of things, but it was still several stories off the ground, which had me wrecked by the time I reached the top. This had previously been a watch tower. There was a roof, and a large store of hay, probably to light a beacon or something. I tapped on the floor with my foot systematically, looking for the trap door, until it creaked in just the right way. I yanked it open and _god _it was heavy. I looked up to Ezio,

"I take it we're going in?" but he shook his head, taking the handle out of my hand and placing it down.

"Not quite. It's a nice trick though; did Rosa teach you that?" I shook my head.

"Ugo." He nodded. And then frowned.

"Do you and Ugo spend a lot of time together?" I'm sure he didn't mean to sound jealous.

"Well, I suppose so. Whenever I'm not with you, I see him. I enjoy his company." He nodded, looking at me, kind of just standing plainly, staring at me. It kind of look liked he wanted to do or say something, but he wouldn't let himself. I caught his eye and looked away immediately, which caused him to relax. For once, he wasn't completely confident in his own words.

"I, uh. Let's sit." He suggested, gesturing to the pile of hay. I noticed it was fresh, obviously not something that was abandoned with the tower itself. Had he planned this? I sat down on the ledge, not quite on the flooring. Ezio came and sat beside me, and for a while we just sat there. I looked over my shoulder towards the city centre, where the last days of Carnevale were being celebrated. Soon we'd have to return to the normal, everyday Venice: a disappointing reality.

I felt Ezio's fingers slip between mine. I turned back to face forward and leant my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes. I sat like that for a long time, until I could feel myself begin to slacken, and my mind shutting down. Just before I fell asleep however, something struck me. A flash of vibrant white light, a ringing in my eyes. It hurt for only a second—I whimpered, and my eyes snapped open, falling forward onto the flooring on all-fours. My body shook immensely, in sharp rivulets through every nerve centre in my body until I finally collapsed, stunned and shocked, but not physically hurt or paralysed. Ezio rushed to me, holding my head in his hands, and I just curled up to him.

"What is it?" he murmured, again and again, holding my head close to his, forehead-to-forehead. He wasn't frantic, but… careful. What had I seen? I was so tired, and yet so afraid to go to sleep. I had no idea what was happening. My ears were still ringing, ruthlessly. He picked me up—god that made it sound so easy, like I was as light as a feather, but really it was him who was just so incredibly strong—and placed me over the bed of hay, still holding me close to him. I focused on my breathing—in, out. In, out.

"Abigail?" I looked up at him, into those deep, dark eyes. I affectionately placed one palm on his cheek, and leaned out of his hold, sitting upright.

"It's fine. But, I think that we should head back." He nodded, pulling me to my feet. The ground moved under my feet at first, but I took my hold on the edge. He led me to the shortcut down; the small wooden perch that jutted out of the side of the building. I spotted a nearby haystack, and he had me go first. The interesting thing about this move was that it was quite literally a leap of faith; you had to believe that you'd make it or else you wouldn't. I rolled out of the haystack and smoothed my wind-blown hair, barely flinching as Ezio landed beside me.

We made our way for the Della Seta, arriving maybe an hour or so before sunrise. I didn't exactly toss and turn in my sleep per se, but my dreams were very, very vivid. Harsh, blinding white light shocked me, people speaking in a language I almost thought I'd forgotten. The dream had a sense of urgency about it—I wasn't being directly interacted with, or spoken to. I wasn't sure what this all meant. But there were people, three or four or five, all with headpieces, all with gadgets. They looked through toward me like I was at the entrance of a cave. One man reached his hand through, to no avail. Another, a woman, called loudly into her headpiece "Shaun, what have you got to tell us? We need it now. It's open."

"Come on Michael, we just need to go." Another woman called. I couldn't make out faces, only silhouettes. I couldn't even put a number on how many there were.

"We have no idea where it leads! It could be anywhere. It could take us straight to Abstergo headquarters!" another argued. Did they mean Abstergo, as in the pharmaceutical company?

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Not if they have more security guards alone than we have assassins worldwide."

"We're going to have to take the risk, Sam."

"Two minutes, that's it."

"They're right on our tail!"

"Fine. Go!" and that sort of ended it there. I opened my eyes, my mind already alive and awake. Ezio was lying beside me, my back toward him. I propped myself up on my elbows, breathing in the cool, sharp air.

_KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK_ on the door. I gasped with fright, the sudden loud shocking me for a moment. I dragged my body out of bed, Ezio already awake and aware. Sometimes I wondered if he could ever truly relax. A messenger was at the door, looking grim and in a rush.

"A party has requested to see Signora Abigail." And I obliged, making an effort to dress myself. I looked over the banister as I descended, however I was met only with the backs of hoods. I frowned. Antonio looked much out of his depth, looking relieved when I reached the bottom of the staircase. I turned to face the company, and their faces were revealed to me.


End file.
